Final Eclipse
by Fictatious
Summary: Part of the Serpentine Series, following Interlude- Yuugi etc. are having their little party in the Pharaoh's memory-world, meanwhile, outside, the Ishtars are waiting patiently when Malik discovers Bakura passed out on the stairs.
1. Chapter 1

"Yuugi," Yuugi's arm was caught as he stepped onto the escalator down to the luggage carousels. "How is Bakura?" Makik asked, his eyes wide and worried.

Yuugi's stomach sank. "Um..." he mumbled, biting his lip and looking away.

Suddenly Malik's hands were clamped around both of Yuugi's arms and he was pushing him against the railing, looking frantic. "What the hell is '_Um'?_" he demanded, shaking the smaller teen. "What did you do? Did he remember? Tell me!"

"Yes... He remembered, I guess..." Yuugi faltered. "I mean, he didn't actually _say_ he remembered, he just... kind of... screamed a lot..." Yuugi looked anywhere but at Malik and fidgeted. "That- that was what he did Thursday, anyway..."

Their shoes bumped up against the base of the escalator and someone behind them gave them a push and an annoyed grunt. Malik kept his vice-grip on Yuugi and dragged him off to the side to continue interrogating him. "Oh I just _love_ how you qualified that with _'Thursday'_," Malik spat, glaring. "So then tell me, _Yuugi_, what happened on _Friday?_" he demanded.

Yuugi winced. "Well..."

"Spit it out!" Malik shouted, giving him a shake. "I don't have time for your Japanese subtlety bullshit!"

"H-he stole the Millenium Ring back, or I guess he kind of un-stole it, but, um, then he put Ryuzaki and Haga into comas... and he said he wanted to open the gate to the underworld..." Yuugi picked at the hem of his shirt and looked vaguely in the direction of the baggage carousels. "But I don't think it was Bakura-kun, and- um, it didn't really seem like Other-Bakura either, because it was... really _smiley_... it- um- it made me think of that snake-thing Kujaku-san told me about..."

He glanced hesitantly back at Malik, who was wearing a painfully blank expression for a moment before suddenly Yuugi found himself being thrown down against the floor. Malik screamed something and Yuugi wasn't even sure what language it was, but he was fairly confident that it was a pretty strong curse. He now looked utterly livid and was ranting in something- Arabic or French*, maybe?- and seemed to be readying to attack.

"Malik!" Ishizu's voice was shrill and she ran to put herself between her brother and Yuugi, pressing her hands against his shoulders. "Calm down, my brother, calm down!" she admonished in the old language. "Go to Rishid," she instructed and shook her head at Malik's continued ranting in possibly multiple languages. "No. Go help Rishid. Now."

Ishizu pushed her seething younger brother off towards the carousels and held out a hand to Yuugi to help him up off the floor. People around them were staring and looking interested and annoyed. "Pharaoh, I apologize for my brother's behavior. He has been very anxious of late."

"It-it's... you don't need to apologize, Ishizu-san," Yuugi mumbled, taking her hand and climbing to his feet.

"You told him something upsetting about Bakura Ryou?" Ishizu asked, glancing over to where Malik was fuming, with his arms crossed, next to his guardian. "I understand if it is a private matter between friends, but if it is something that affects Pharaoh or the Millenium Items..."

"Yeah... probably," Yuugi mumbled squirming uncomfortably. "Baku- Somebody in Bakura-kun's body, I- I'm not really sure who it was now, they said that they were coming here too, to challenge the other me in 'the world of his memories' and play 'the ultimate shadow-game' or something..."

Ishizu frowned and nodded slowly. "I see. I can't pretend that something like this is entirely unexpected. The spirit of the Millennium Ring does seem to be connected to the Nameless Pharaoh in some way," she said quietly.

Yuugi nodded and bit his lip. "W-what was Malik saying to me a minute ago?" he asked, not really sure he wanted to know, but feeling like he needed to.

"He..." Ishizu looked a bit doubtful, as though trying to decide how to sensor her brother's words. "He expressed concern that you had left Bakura alone during a bad time... But it seems likely to me that the spirit would indeed do as he said and come to Egypt as well..."

Yuugi nodded again.

...

Rishid and Ishizu parked the cars in the lee of an outcropping of rocks, near an empty cave where they were setting up camp. Malik dragged a foot-locker inside and dumped it on the floor before storming out to retrieve another. "Malik, will you please stop this sulking," Ishizu called, carrying in a box of fire starters and a kerosene lamp. "I know you're upset, but it is extremely important that we be ready for any unforeseen events that may complicate the Pharaoh's journey."

"_Fuck him_," Malik muttered darkly, grabbing a second footlocker that Rishid handed up to him.

"Malik, I will ask you to be careful with your language until this is over," Ishizu said sternly, climbing down the short bank to fetch bundles of linen from the cars. "Ritual purity extends beyond the physical body and I want you to be fit for ceremony, should the need arise."

Malik didn't offer a response, but just dragged the second footlocker over next to the first and dumped it. He paused, after he did, something tugging just slightly at his consciousness. Malik straightened up, inhaling slowly through his nose, and became sure that he smelled something _odd_. He pulled the keychain flashlight out of his pocket and shined it deeper into the cave, scanning over the rocks beyond where the sunlight penetrated.

"Malik, what is it?" Ishizu called up to him.

Malik glanced back at her momentarily before returning his attention to the cave. "I'm not sure..." he said and stepped a little deeper in, straining his eyes to see, now that he was out of the direct sun.

His flashlight beam skimmed over something dark and he quickly brought it back to focus on the object. Malik frowned softly and stepped closer, crouching down to see what was laying on the floor of the cave, looking so purposefully placed, right in the center. As he got close, his flashlight caught the edge of a piece of paper laying near the object that he had first spotted and he reached out to pick it up, before freezing, finally recognizing the smell that was coming from the small, dark heap on the ground.

Fresh blood.

He stared down at the thing. It looked like a scrap of fabric, tied into a knot, and soaked through with congealing blood. "..._Ishizu!_" he called, a sickening feeling of dread creeping at the corners of his mind. "Ishizu, come look at this!"

"What is it?" Ishizu asked, coming up behind him and stopping to look at the bizarre talisman illuminated by Malik's flashlight. "Malik, don't _touch_ that!" she exclaimed, sounding slightly panicked.

"I'm not _stupid!_" Malik protested indignantly, then he remembered the paper and moved his flashlight to find it again. It looked clean, totally free from the blood that soaked the talisman, and he reached out gingerly to pick it up.

"What is that?" Ishizu demanded as Malik straightened up.

"A note, I think," Malik said, moving the flashlight to capture the messy scrawl of a ball-point pen across the sheet of otherwise pristine paper.

_I have to admit that I did underestimate you, darling, but in the end, you only delayed the inevitable._

_XOXO_

_Mot_

Malik's blood went cold as he stared at the note, frozen in place.

"Oh dear Ra!" Ishizu whispered beside him. "Rishid! Rishid, the hearth!" she shouted, turning around and running to the mouth of the cave. "I need to make a purifying fire right now! An underworlder has contaminated our cave!"

Malik boggled slightly that a damn cave seemed to be his sister's highest priority right now. When _Mot_ was around here somewhere? With a physical body that could write fucking _notes_ to him? He let the note drop to the ground next to him and stared down at the demonic talisman on the floor. It must have been to get his attention, Mot had to know that Ishizu could easily take care of something like that.

That bastard was _taunting_ him. And he was a part of _this_ too? Malik gasped sharply, remembering Yuugi's mention of a snake. "Oh God," he whispered. "Oh God, _Ryou!_" Malik turned and started running out of the cave, jumping off the ledge into the sand below.

"Malik! Where are you going?" Ishizu shouted at him.

"R-Ryou! He's- Mot-" Malik stuttered, panicked. He didn't know where he was going himself. To find Yuugi? He didn't know where Ryou was any better than Malik did. But he couldn't just sit still and wait for all Hell to break loose- literally.

At that moment, he was spared the trouble of having to admit that he didn't know what to do by a sudden surge of power from the direction of the Tablet Chamber. The Pharaoh had activated the tablets. But a second burst of magical energy had followed the first almost immediately, like a shadow, cold and oppressively dark, tugging at his senses almost painfully.

He heard Ishizu gasp, and knew that his siblings had felt it too, the surge of wrongness that sheltered itself in the wake of the Pharaoh's spell. Half a second later, Malik was running again, charging back across the sand towards the Tablet Chamber entrance. He vaguely heard Ishizu call his name.

He charged down the steps before his eyes had time to adjust. He could only see black ahead of him as he ran towards the chamber at the bottom, letting his feet guide him rather than his eyes. Suddenly his right foot caught under something and he was pitching forward involuntarily, plummeting into the darkness ahead of him. Malik yelped and brought up his hands to catch himself, trying desperately not to break any bones as he slammed down into the carved stone stairs.

Malik curled up in pain, whimpering to himself as he lay on the gritty, jagged sandstone steps. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, trying to take stock of his body. He didn't think anything _felt_ broken... After a few moments he carefully pushed himself up, his arms aching with bruises, but supporting his weight without difficulty, and he eased himself back onto his rear and glanced up the stairway.

The sunlight at the top was nearly blinding, and he shaded his eyes with his hands and cast around to find what had tripped him. In the semi-darkness he could barely make out a figure sprawled on the stairs just above him and he squinted, the form slowly resolving itself into the shape of a body. Malik bit down hard on his lip and reached into his pocket, finding his mini flashlight again and pulling it out, silently praying that it had also come through the fall unbroken.

He flicked it on and his eyes widened as the beam fell on white hair. "R-Ryou!" Malik gasped and scrambled closer, sliding a hand under the limp boy's shoulders and pulling him partly into his lap, trying to dig his face out of all the tangled hair. "Ryou!" he begged helplessly, finding his hand and squeezing it.

"n... t... w...wat'r... ple..." Ryou mumbled hoarsely, his lips barely moving.

"Malik!" Ishizu's voice echoed off the walls all around him.

"S-sister! It's- it's Ryou!" Malik wailed not looking away from Ryou. "He's- he's really bad!" He found a sob escaping from him and his voice came out panicky and strained as he called, "Help me!"

"Malik, move, let me take him," Rishid said, next to him suddenly and gathering up Ryou's limp body.

"C-careful," Malik whimpered. "He a-asked for water."

"We'll get him back to camp," Ishizu said, just above them on the steps. "I need light to check him over properly."

...

"Oh shit, he's all _red_," Malik whined, pulling open a folding camp chair for Rishid to settle Ryou into. "He's probably got heat-stroke."

"Calm down, Malik. Get the washing water," Ishizu instructed. "We should purify him quickly."

"God _damn_ it, Ishizu! He's probably got second degree burns and you're worried about his damn _ritual purity?_" Malik exclaimed, trying to peal the coat away from Ryou's sweaty, sticky skin.

"I'm worried about protecting him from another _possession!_" Ishizu shouted back. "Let me do that, get the water!"

"Ishizu! You're a girl! Ryou would be mortified if you stripped him!"

"Fine! I don't have time for this!" Ishizu snapped. "Get his clothes off, I'll get the water!"

"I got it," Rishid announced calmly, carrying a 10-galon plastic jug into the cave.

"Oh! Thank you, Rishid," Ishizu said, calming down a bit. "I'll get the washing things. Malik, how many changes of clothes did you bring?"

"Three," Malik answered, hooking an arm under Ryou's and lifting him up a few inches off the chair so that he could pull the jacket away. "This thing is _leather!_"

"I know. I'll get the plastic bags too. What about his shoes?" Ishizu asked, hanging at the mouth of the cave.

"Maybe synthetic. I'm not sure." Malik shook his head.

"All right, we'll get rid of them too," Ishizu decided before hopping down off the ledge and disappearing.

Malik carefully pulled the cord holding the Millennium Ring away from Ryou's neck before lifting it over his head, but it still must have rubbed against the darkening skin because Ryou let out a small whimper of pain that made Malik wince sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, baby, your neck's really burned..." Malik whispered, pausing in his task to put the Millennium Ring around his own neck and press his fingertips against it. He closed his eyes and tried to feel something, _anything_, but there was just empty, inanimate metal.

He shook his head, telling himself to forget about that for now, and pried the sweat-soaked T-shirt away from Ryou's torso, dropping it to the floor before moving down to Ryou's shoes. He glanced briefly up at Rishid, who was pouring water into a shallow bucket next to Ryou's chair, while he undid the laces and pulled the shoes off. Malik cringed as he pulled back Ryou's socks, finding them full of sand and the skin underneath chafed and raw.

Ishizu came back, setting down Malik's duffle bag and a tupperwear box of bathing supplies, then she opened a bottle of drinking-water. She tilted Ryou's head back and pushed his sweaty hair away. "Bakura, please drink some water," she said softly, tilting the bottle to his mouth.

...

Malik stared at the watch in his hands, watching the seconds tick slowly by as he sat on the edge of the bedroll Ryou was passed-out on. Ten minutes finally passed and he dropped the watch and grabbed up the water-bottle next to him. "Ryou, Ryou time to drink again," he said, sliding a hand under Ryou's head and lifting it a little.

Ryou mumbled incoherently but swallowed when Malik poured water into his mouth. Malik lowered him back down gently and brushed his fingers through Ryou's wet hair.

"How is he?" Ishizu asked, coming over after setting up the camp table, as Rishid was getting the kerosene lanterns placed before sun set.

"He's coming around, I think," Malik said quietly. "I think... he's exhausted. It's not just the sun, he probably hasn't slept... If... If Mot was controlling him... It probably wouldn't have let Ryou's body have any time to sleep."

Ishizu nodded slowly. "I'm going to start making supper now," she said. "I'll start a poultice for his sunburn too."

"Thank you, Sister," Malik said, picking up the watch again and checking it. Two minutes, 21 seconds, then he'd make Ryou drink some more water.

...

"Come on, time to drink again."

Ryou groaned; he just wanted to _sleep_. His head was pulled up a bit and the lip of a cup was pressed to his mouth. He gagged in revulsion at the salty-sweet taste, like a bad sports-drink, and tried to pull away.

"No, Ryou! I know it's not very good, but you need the electrolytes," the voice above him scolded. The hand at the back of his neck moved and it felt like someone was scrubbing a wire brush across his skin.

"Gagh!" Ryou yelped, curling forward and bumping into the cup as he tried to get away from the sand-paper hand.

"Damn it! I'm sorry!" the voice exclaimed. The cup disappeared and the hand on his neck moved up into his hair, and another went under his shoulders. "Sister! Is that stuff ready yet?"

"It's still too hot," a feminine voice answered from further off. "I spread it out so it will cool faster."

The desperate need to sleep had faded with the shock of pain and Ryou found himself coming more and more awake, becoming curious about his surroundings and trying to remember where he'd been before he fell asleep. He'd been in his soul-room. He'd been sitting quietly in the corner, waiting, because when he'd tried to take back his body before, Mot had sent crippling pain through his entire being and Ryou hadn't even been able to move.

But judging by the particularly visceral feeling of the pain on his neck, he must be in control again. If one could call it that. It seemed to take all his strength to lever his eyelids slowly open and let in the dim light around him. A blur of warm colors suddenly pushed its way into his field of vision and Ryou blinked slowly, trying to focus.

"Ryou?" the voice above him asked in a nervous, agitated tone.

Ryou blinked a few more times and as the fuzzy colors started to resolve themselves into a face, his brain finally managed to recognize the voice that had been talking to him. "M-Malik?" he whispered, his throat feeling raw and abused.

Malik looked relieved and smiled down at him. "Yeah. Do you know where you are?"

Ryou frowned slightly, his mind still felt like it was filled with some viscous fluid, thick and hard to move through. "... Egypt...?" he asked. Mot had been chatty enough about how the apocalypse was about to be ushered in.

"Yeah, good," Malik said, settling Ryou back down against a soft pillow and gently touching his hair. "Can you tell me what happened? I know Yuugi broke the seal the Pharaoh put on your memories, but after that, what happened? Why did you come here?"

"Yuugi..." Ryou whispered, the skin on his face feeling stiff and tight as he frowned. That night came flooding back to him abruptly, pushing away the fuzziness in his brain and he gasped, his hands moving to his chest, trying to find the Ring, his Ring, and touching only fabric. He started to panic.

"It's here!" Malik assured him, grabbing the Millennium Ring up off the mattress next to Ryou's pillow and holding it out to him. "It shouldn't go on your neck because you're really burned." He explained as Ryou grabbed it out of his hands. Then Malik's expression darkened, looking pained, "B-but, it- it's..." he mumbled in a softer voice as Ryou held the Ring in front of him and stared at it.

"... It's empty," Ryou whispered, cold horror settling on him. "What's _wrong_ with it? Where _is_ he?"

"Bakura," a soft voice cut in and he looked up to see Ishizu stepping up behind her brother. "We believe that the Spirit of the Millennium Ring has accompanied the Pharaoh on his journey into the world of his memories," she said calmly.

Ryou stared at her and then looked slowly back to Malik, who had his head lowered and was biting his lip. "B-but- He's coming back, isn't he?" Ryou blinked as he felt tears building in his eyes. "He's not _left_ me!"

"... He's being manipulated, Ryou," Malik whispered. "A demon is using him. The fact that it took his soul into the memory world, where it didn't need a human as a host... It's probably trying to use him as a spell component."

"What does that mean?" Ryou breathed, and then demanded in a more frantic voice, "What does that _mean?_"

"An underworlder cannot manifest itself in our world without the help of a human being. This Mot is likely using the Spirit to perform a spell that will allow it to come fully into our world," Ishizu explained.

"It... It just wants him to do a spell?" Ryou asked, feeling a slight surge of hope.

Ishizu looked away, "It is impossible to predict what it would do if the spell were completed. At that point it is likely that the Spirit would be more valuable to it as a live sacrifice than a tool."

"Ishizu! _Shut_ up!" Malik exclaimed, looking horrified.

Ishizu straightened up, looking doubtful. "I- I'm sorry," she whispered. "... I've made salve for your sunburns." She walked away quickly.

"... Malik...?" Ryou whispered, turning his head towards the other teen, tears carving stinging trails across his sunburned cheeks.

"It's not going to happen, Ryou," Malik said firmly. "The Pharaoh is stronger than Mot. He- he defeated him before, when he saved my life. He can save Bakhura too."

Ryou closed his eyes and shook. "That bastard wouldn't lift a finger to save him," he whispered. "Besides... There's two of them now..."

"Two?" Malik breathed.

"The Snake... It's different from Mot..." Ryou whispered. "The Snake has always been there... Mot is new."

"... It's gonna be okay, Ryou," Malik whispered, and Ryou knew he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince Ryou.

...

It was hours later, as the numbers on Malik's digital watch approached midnight, when Ryou sat bolt upright on the bed-mat, screaming like he was being skinned alive. "_NOOO!_"

Malik jolted awake instantly and flailed in the blankets, having curled himself against Ryou's side some time earlier. He rolled off the mat onto the floor, struggling with the blankets like a fish caught in a net, squawking "Gak- Ryou- what the hell?" When he finally managed to sit up and look at the other teenager, Ryou was on his feet, with his arms flung wide, his hair and loose, linen pants flying wildly in a wind that shouldn't have been there.

Malik stared, dumbstruck by the sight and the sound. Ryou was screaming wordlessly, but he was all but drown-out by the howling of unnatural wind whipping around him, like a tornado had somehow appeared inside of the cave. Malik tore his eyes away from Ryou to look around and spot his sister, shouting, her expression panicked in the light that Malik only just realized was as unlikely as the wind. Rishid's hands were together, his expression serious and concentrating, he was chanting, even though it was completely inaudible over the cacophony.

Ryou's arms suddenly swung inwards, making a grabbing motion and pulling towards his chest as his teeth slammed closed and his screaming cut off. The wind crescendoed and all the air in the cave seemed to surge towards Ryou all at once, before suddenly everything stopped. Half a second later, as Malik was blinking fast, blinded by the sudden return of darkness, he heard Ryou collapsing next to him.

"Ryou!" he shouted, grabbing blindly at the body beside him, finding Ryou's shoulders and sliding a hand over his face.

"Oh God, oh God," he could hear Ishizu's panicked voice along with rattles and bumps of movement around the cave. "What did he _do?_"

"What _was_ it?" Malik demanded, terrified, and then blinked and turned his face back towards Ryou in the darkness, feeling the other teen starting to shake violently. "Ryou? What's wrong?"

"I don't _know!_ It wasn't a spell! It was wild! Completely unfocused!" his sister was saying, sounding almost hysterical.

Suddenly there was light again, from a kerosene lantern and Malik could see Ryou's face all squished up, his eyes screwed shut, looking terrified and curling his arms and legs in protectively. "Ryou! Ryou what's wrong? What did you do?" he asked frantically.

The other teenager just continued to shake and then started sobbing loudly.

"_Ryou!_" Malik demanded, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.

"_No no!_ I did everything _right!_ I did everything you _wanted!_" the words came out between loud, hysterical sobs and Malik stared down at the pinched, frightened, pained face. "_I don't want to disappear!_"

He was speaking the old language, Malik realized suddenly, his eyes widening. "Thief?" he whispered, and then shook whoever he was looking at again, trying to break through and make the other notice his presence. "Bakhura! Bakhura! Calm down! You're all right!"

The brown eyes finally snapped open, staring back up at Malik as the hysterical ranting turned to ragged, frightened gasping. "M-M-Malik- but- No, he- No no! You don't _understand! _It was _Mot!_ _He_ tried to kill me! Sek _wouldn't!_ Sek _protects_ me!" Bakhura had focused on him only momentarily before being wrapped up in some dialogue Malik could only hear half of.

"The spirit of the Ring?" Ishizu asked, sounding thoroughly shocked. "How could he possibly retrieve it from another world?"

"The spell was set up months ago, they're connected," Malik explained quietly, gathering Bakhura into his arms as he shook and struggled weakly against nothing in particular.

"No! He protects me! He always protected me!" Bakhura wailed. "He still needs me! I can't abandon him!" He jerked and recoiled suddenly, looking very much as though he'd been slapped and he became silent for a moment, his eyes very wide and shocked, before they misted over and he began wailing again. "You don't _understand!_"

"Bakhura!" Malik called, trying to hold him steady while the thief squirmed against him. "Bakhura, it's all right now! It's going to be okay!"

"But he _needs_ me!"

"No he doesn't," Ishizu's voice cut through with a resounding finality that even made Bakhura pause, confused. "... They've already accomplished what they needed you for," she said in a hollow sounding voice, her eyes distant.

And then Malik realized he could feel it too. A dreadful creeping coldness; not the night's chill, not any natural quirk of the weather, but something horribly wrong and sinister. They were all silent for a while and there was no sound at all, no insects, no wind, the world around them seemed to have gone utterly still and lifeless.

"Malik,' Ishizu said quietly, breaking the foreboding silence. "Prepare yourself for ritual."

"Yes," Malik said without any argument.

...

* I've decided that Malik speaks old Egyptian, Arabic, English, French and Japanese. Japanese only really being used for his interactions with Yuugi+, so it's his weakest. He learned old Egyptian as his primary language, Arabic because it's probably what he's going to be encountering most in modern Egypt, French because that's probably the next most useful thing for North Africa, and English because it's everywhere and seemed like necessity. Oh yay for home-schooled kids, academically advanced, socially stunted?

A/N: So I've finally gone off-script and broken from the canon timeline, because, well, fuck that ending! It's crap! I hate those Peter Pan 'And everything goes back to normal but now you have a more adult perspective on the world!' endings! I'm fuckin' staying in Neverland and nobody's gonna make me leave! As for the name of this fic, I was debating for a long while, because I wanted it to be something to do with solar eclipses, because they've got that solar eclipse thing going on in memory-world and that's also the big dastardly deed Apep was known for in AE, and Bakhura's mind has kind of been eclipsed and on and on... but the word 'Eclipse' has been so terribly overused in recent years, and I also didn't want people to be put in mind of the Twilight series as they scrolled past my new entry... But I'm just going to suck it up and stop worrying about sub-conscious social bullshit.

And here's a shout-out to Erdbeerasche, because her comments reminded me to edit and post this chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

It was like looking at a double-exposed photograph; Ryou's physical eyes were open, at least slightly, and the dim images of what was happening in the cave, of the Ishtar siblings setting up some ritual around the brazier, overlaid the image of his soul-room. He was peripherally aware of the sounds and movements happening outside, but his chief attention was focused on the Thief leaning against him and sobbing brokenly.

Words and arguments had faded and left the Thief curled half in Ryou's lap with his arms clinging around Ryou's waist. Ryou stroked his hair and they cried quietly and exchanged the memories of their time apart. Usually at these times, Ryou could feel Thief holding back pieces, sensoring out upsetting details, giving Ryou the Disney version of event. Right now the memories were rushing into Ryou's mind unchecked, unedited, as the Thief seemed too lost and distraught to control his own mind. It was like when they'd first met, when the Thief couldn't tell where the boundaries of his own consciousness were, when he'd still thought the snake was part of himself, when his thoughts and emotions were scattered, immediate, and intense.

It was like in three months, the snake had managed to undo all the six and a half years they'd spent together. Ryou closed his eyes and burried his face in the Thief's tangled hair. He'd put the pieces together once, he could do it again. And this time he knew where to start, this time he knew who he was talking to, knew what was happening.

He sighed and turned his head a little, keeping his cheek pressed to the crown of Thief's head. He gazed at the smooth, mocha color of the Thief's shoulder, where his coat-thing had slid down. He hadn't for an instant failed to recognize the spirit, despite the fact that his appearance had changed drastically. The Thief had always, even in their shared mental space, borrowed Ryou's image for his own, but now he was entirely different. It was what the Thief had looked like in life, Ryou supposed, and the magic of whatever mad journey he'd been on had preserved that image and reminded the Thief of who he had been.

The change in the Thief's (meta)physical appearance gave Ryou something to ponder on other than the extent of damage to the already tenuous state of his psyche. His body was stockier than Ryou's, lean and muscular with skin a few shades darker than Malik's. His hair was stiff and dirty-feeling, the way that Ryou supposed most people's must have been in the days before indoor plumbing, but even that somehow added to the exotic sort of beauty in the Thief's appearance.

"I suppose I never really expected anything one way or the other," Ryou mused quietly and watched the Thief turn his head slightly to look up at him while not moving away any. "I mean, I never really thought I'd see what you used to look like, so I never bothered to wonder if you were beautiful or ugly," he explained, running his fingers through the Thief's fringe and pushing it back away from his eyes. "But I think I'm kind of surprised. I mean, it makes sense that you'd be built and everything, because you work so hard, but I guess it seems a little odd for someone who's had such a difficult life to have such a pretty face." He traced a finger along the line of the Thief's jaw, squarer, more distinctly masculine than his own, and let his hand linger a moment before pushing another lock of hair behind the Thief's ear. "I thought a hard life, and being in the sun all the time, made people's faces look old very quickly. I suppose you were in the prime of life though... when you'd be the most beautiful."

The Thief seemed to calm a little more, soothed by gentle, praising words, and his visible eye drifted almost shut again.

...

"_Hmm, your other playable characters are really more effective than I thought they'd be,_" the demon version of Bakura mused, smirking down at the table.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pharaoh asked, suspicion bleeding into his voice.

"_Ah nothing,_" the demon shrugged and sat back in his chair, grinning widely at Pharaoh. "_I'm just impressed how close they are to discovering your true name._"

"... How do you know that?" Pharaoh asked, his eyes scanning the board carefully. He couldn't see where his friends were, much less know what they were doing, how did Bakura? "You shouldn't be able to see what they're doing."

Bakura shrugged. "_Just because my players are more communicative than yours, don't blame me._"

Pharaoh narrowed his eyes, glaring across the table at Bakura. "What players? You sacrificed the Thief King, you don't have any other players on the board."

The demon laughed. "_Oh, why thank you for underestimating me again, Pharaoh!_" he crowed jovially. Again? "_But I'm not about to return the favor. You really thought I'd play alone against your five players? I have three, well only one on the board now, but also one in reserve, who should be getting into place right about now..._"

"What do you mean _in reserve?_" Pharaoh demanded. And where did Bakura still have a player on the board? He hadn't seen any characters on Bakura's side besides the Thief King and the hooded NPCs.

"_Well, he's a minor actor, I think I'd rather forfeit him for a named-character,_" Bakura mused, drumming his fingers idly against the edge of the table. "_You really can't wrap up a story without main characters, after all, and I have become so fond of our named-character._"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"_Soul Allocation, dear Pharaoh, you've already used it once yourself in this game. Transferring one character's hit-points to another,_" the demon explained, winking at Pharaoh. "_Works marvelously if you have a character on the edge of death and no time to heal them, or even a newly dead character can be revived, although that __**does**__ cost double._"

The memory of his player getting strength from Yuugi's flashed to the front of his mind and Pharaoh frowned. Bakura obviously intended to bring back the Thief King's character, but what player did he intend to take the hit-points from?

"_I'll apply the technique to my dummy player,_" Bakura explained with a look of smug satisfaction.

"_What_ dummy player?"

Bakura's lips split open into a wicked grin and he slammed down a new character sheet on the table. "_It's game-time, Mister President!_" he declared.

Pharaoh blinked. President? "Kaiba? _Kaiba's_ here?"

There was a flash on the board, and Kaiba appeared suddenly in the streets of Amarna. Bakura threw back his head and laughed before bringing his eyes back to the board and raising the dice in his hand to throw. "_Now, if you'll just let me borrow your hit-points-_"

...

There was a sudden, horrible shrieking of straining metal that made both Bakhura and Ryou jerk around to see what was happening. The steel panel that had replaced the door of Ryou's soul room months earlier was ripping back, like the top of a can of fish, protesting loudly as it was pulled away from its moorings and thrown aside, revealing Sek and Mot standing together on the other side, Mot looking ammused as usual and Sek appearing absolutely livid.

"_You worthless piece of shit!_' the Sek snarled, storming into the room. '_You've damn near ruined everything!_"

"_Temper temper, Sek,_" Mot admonished in a jovial tone. "_Don't get your panties in a twist. We've not lost yet._"

"_Shut up!_" Sek shouted without sparing a glance for the other demon. He glared down at Bakhura, who clung to Ryou, terrified silent by the sheer _anger_ in Sek's face. "_Three thousand years of preparation and you couldn't get it right! How dare you disappoint me! Worthless human garbage!_"

"B-but- but I did what you t-told me..." Bakhura protested in a bare whisper, feeling compelled to make some excuse, to make Sek stop looking at him like that; it was too horrible.

"_FOOL!_" Sek screamed and cuffed him hard enough to send both Bakhura and Ryou sprawling across the floor.

"Stop it!" Ryou shrieked as he squirmed over Bakhura, covering him with his body as though Bakhura was some helpless infant. What was worse was that Bakhura couldn't seem to make himself move, just cling and sob light a frightened child.

"_Stay out of this!_" Sek snarled, and raised his hand again, this time with his fingers curled forward, the tips lengthening into grizzly claws.

Mot caught his arm, holding Sek in place as he looked down on Bakhura and Ryou with that terrifying smile. "_Little Bakhura, you certainly did well in gathering the Millennium Items, but how on earth did you expect Lord Apep to be reborn without a blood sacrifice?_" he said in a calm, logical voice. "_You've really thrown a wrench into the works by refusing to see the ceremony through._"

"But..." Bakhura's voice sounded tiny to his own ears as he stared up at Sek, confusion and pain squeezing at his lungs. "Y-you protected me all those times just to kill me now?"

"_A human is worth no more than the value of their blood,_" Sek hissed.

Mot laughed as though it were a hilarious joke. "_You must forgive him, darling, social discourse is not my brother's forte._" He moved across the floor and knelt down next to them, smiling down at Bakhura. "_It isn't to say that your contribution isn't appreciated, little Bakhura, merely that human blood is a most __**valuable**__ commodity._"

Mot reached out toward Bakhura's face, but Ryou slapped his hand away. "Don't _touch_ him!" he snapped.

"_Miserable insect!_" Sek snapped and made to kick him.

"_Sek,_" Mot said calmly, holding up a hand and raising an eyebrow slightly. "_A little delicacy, please?_" The slow realization that Mot was protecting him, them, from Sek made Bakhura's blood run cold. The situation had gone from frightening and confusing to terrifyingly surreal.

Mot's glowing blue eyes moved to look at Ryou, his smile softening to something almost pleasant. "_Go back to sleep, little Ryou. It will all be over soon. You won't have to worry anymore._" He dipped his head a little to catch Bakhura's eyes, giving him the same nearly-human smile. "_It's too late to use you for the sacrifice now, Bakhura, I'm afraid you can't have that honor anymore, but Lord Apep's resurrection is going to take a little longer than planned now, and you could do us all a big favor by keeping the Pharaoh and his friends busy for a while. Don't you want another shot at him? Do you know what he did to your little Ryou?_"

Bakhura was shaking and couldn't seem to form a coherent thought, much less words. He knew with a strange, foreign certainty that Mot wouldn't wait for him to agree, and that it wouldn't matter if he tried to refuse, but it seemed that Ryou wasn't going to wait for his answer either.

"Get out!" Ryou shouted. "Get out of my mind! Get _out!_"

The words seemed to shake something loose in Bakhura and he suddenly seemed to have control of himself again, he gripped Ryou tighter. "No," he whispered and then pressed his forehead into Ryou's shoulder; he knew he'd lose his nerve if he looked at their cold, luminescent eyes another second. "I'm not going with you."

There was a pause and then Mot sighed, "_You're right,_" he said in a mockery of disappointment. "_The boy really is a terrible influence. These modern people just don't have any manners at all._"

"_I told you to keep them separated,_" Sek growled.

"_You did, you did,_" Mot agreed. "_I was careless. I never thought a foreigner would have such a talent for magic. He caught me off guard._"

"_Idiot,_" Sek sneered. There was a momentary pause, just half a beat of decision making and then he ordered, "_You take Bakhura. I'll subdue this pest._"

A fresh thrill of terror ran down Bakhura's spine and he tightened his arms around Ryou, twisting his hands into the fabric of his shirt.

"_Your wish is my command, dearest,_" Mot half-sang and then Bakhura was being grabbed around the waist.

"NO!" Ryou screamed, clinging and digging his fingers into Bakhura's skin, even as Sek suddenly dissolved into a gigantic, black snake and lunged towards him fangs-first. One of Ryou's hands let go of Bakhura and he felt himself lurch back, into Mot's grip, as he watched Ryou lash his arm out towards Sek's descending jaws. There was a flash and Sek's snake-form flew back and hit the wall.

Mot started laughing hysterically, his grip on Bakhura slackening slightly with his mirth. "_Oh shit! Who's careless now!_" he mocked as Bakhura scrambled with his hands, trying to get his arms more securely around Ryou as the boy stared at his own hand with a dazed look.

_Look to your own tassk!_ Sek shrieked back and lunged again.

Bakhura was wrenched backwards and lost his grip on Ryou's waist and flailed desperately, grabbing for Ryou's arms and hands, watching the terrified look Ryou was wearing that he was sure he must have been mirroring as they scrambled to hold on to each other.

"Thief!" Ryou screamed, half a moment before Sek's jaws slammed into his back.

Ryou's eyes screwed shut and he screamed. Bakhura could hear the scream in double; he was screaming outside, in the cave, as well as their inner-space. A moment later there were other voices on the outside, shouting, asking questions. Bakhura couldn't make out what they were saying, he was screaming too and only just clinging to Ryou's wrists as Sek pulled and shook him viciously and one of Mot's arms moved around Bakhura's neck, choking him.

All at once the arms let go and Mot started screaming. Bakhura slammed into Ryou in the sudden absence of Mot's grip and lay dazed for a moment before looking back to see Mot's image wavering between the copy of Ryou and the giant snake, something like purple lightning crackling all around him.

_What are you doing?_ Sek demanded, his fangs still sunk into Ryou's abdomen.

_It's him! They're with HIM!_ Mot screamed, convulsing and wearing an agonized expression when his human visage flickered visible.

_Hurry you foo-_ Sek's words cut off in a scream of pain accompanied by sounds like a butcher-knife cutting through thick meat. Ryou tumbled down on top of Bakhura, knocking him senseless for a moment.

_SEK!_ Huge, black coils rolled over Bakhura and Ryou, and the crackling, purple light licked at them. Bakhura closed his eyes and clung to Ryou, feeling the heavy, scaled body slide over him and turn, rushing back in the direction of the door, and pulling Sek with him.

And then everything became silent. He could hear distant voices, on the outside, but Ryou's soul-room was utterly still except for the combined, hysterical breaths of he and Bakhura. Someone was shaking them, on the outside, calling their names. Bakhura ignored it, just quietly clinging and trying to calm himself, trying to soak in the heat and comfort of Ryou's metaphysical 'body' and banish all the chaotic, terrifying thoughts and feelings from his mind.

"Th-Thief, we n-need to see what's happen-ning outside," Ryou whispered to him after a while.

Bakhura shook himself, not wanting to move but feeling more than compelled to agree with anything Ryou wanted. He nodded his head minutely and pressed his face against Ryou's neck, letting Ryou pull them both up towards lucidity.

...

A pillar of golden light suddenly burst through the ceiling, throwing Hassan and Aknadin apart and dissipating the purple lighting between them.

Pharaoh closed his eyes against the light. Somebody shrieked with surprise. After an instant, the light faded and Pharaoh blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to clear the spots from his vision and see what was happening in the place where the pillar had landed.

Sand was swirling up from the floor, gathering and sculpting itself into the form of a human being. The features etched themselves into the shape of the Thief King Bakura, and several gasps were heard around the chamber.

The color of sand gave way to flesh and fiber and left the Thief King standing in the precise center of where the light had fallen. His face was oddly blank though, his eyes unfocused and his jaw slack. He swayed for a moment and then collapsed limply to the floor, his body exploding into sand once more.

There was silence.

"Wh-what was _that?_" Mana demanded somewhere behind him.

...

The Pharaoh raised his eyebrows in surprise, watching his opponent across the table suddenly double-over in apparent pain. He tilted his head slightly, wondering what had inspired such a reaction; the only thing that had happened on the game board was a miserably botched role. Why that should cause _this_ Bakura physical pain, the Pharaoh wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps too much of his power was being invested in creating the game-world?

"Something wrong?" he asked quietly.

The demon-Bakura looked up at him and quickly adjusted his posture, though the movements looked strained and stiff, as though he were still in pain. "_My gambit failed,_" the demon replied in what was surely meant to be a casual tone. "_It's because you're side is cheating, of course._"

"Of course. Ra forbid that a _demon_ would ever cheat," the Pharaoh scoffed.

Bakura smirked. "_I gave you every advantage in the world, Pharaoh. You have five players, I started this game with only four. And I just lost one._"

"What a pity," Pharaoh said, leaning forward and feeling a smug grin curl his lips. "You really should take better care of your things."

"_Quite right,_" Bakura agreed. "_No use crying over spilt milk, though. And I still have my fail-safe left._" He tapped a finger against the hourglass that was counting down the minutes until Apep's awakening.

"Indeed." Pharaoh nodded, eyeing the hourglass. "I suppose the player you just lost would be the real Bakura?"

The demon grinned and pointed to himself. "_You mean the one with this face? Oh, no no no, we never could get him to play ball. Very willful, that one. The best I could manage on that end was despairing apathy._"

Pharaoh raised a curious eyebrow. "The human spirit within the Millennium Ring then?"

"_Oh so you already know about him?_" the demon chuckled. "_It usually takes a long time to break the spirit of someone like him, but of course, your father already did that for us, didn't he._" He smirked, looking pleased with himself as Pharaoh felt his face twitch slightly. "_We really had him well trained, but little Ryou is just such a bad influence, teaching him to be so naughty and disobedient. I'm rather beginning to understand my brother's distaste for him._"

Brother? There was more than one demon? Mai had only talked about the one. "Who are you?" Pharaoh asked, narrowing his eyes. "Are you the parasite Mai saw in the Shadow Realm?"

"_Mai?_" the demon looked slightly puzzled for a moment before his face again brightened and he snapped his fingers. "_Oh! The one with that amazing cleavage!_" He snickered, shaking his head. "_That was my brother,_" he paused for a moment to stifle a laugh. "_Oh was he __**angry**__ about that little joke..._" He wiped at a nonexistant tear. "_No no, I was much too busy playing with you to go gadding about in the Shadow Realm._"

"With me?" Phraoh frowned.

"_Oh yes._" The demon nodded. "_And speaking of naughty little boys, I so very much look forward to torturing Malik after my master has taken your world to his bosom._"

Oh. That made the pieces click suddenly together in Pharaoh's mind. "... I thought I killed you," he said quietly.

"_Well then, I guess you underestimated me, didn't you?_" the demon hummed, grinning impossibly wide. "_And my master's power. Silly you, thinking a handful of fragile little humans could stand up to gods._"

"You're nothing but a demon," Pharaoh snorted, crossing his arms and giving a derisive sniff.

"_You'll find, dear Pharaoh, that the difference between gods and demons is merely the difference between day and night,_" the demon said, completely unfazed. "_And after all, my master is far older than your great Ra. He was there from the very beginning._"

"Tell someone who cares."

...

I totally wrote this all out of order. I wrote the two soul-room scenes first, and originally they were both from Ryou's perspective and with a lame written segue, but the second half of it was really flat and lame, so threw in an ellipsis and I rewrote it from Bakhura's perspective, but I was like "man, I can't just have it change perspective in the middle of a scene or something" and so I wanted another scene in the middle there, but I couldn't figure out what, so I just threw in a second ellipsis to mark it for later and rewrote that second half while I was feeling it. Then I wrote about half of the final table-top conversation at the end there, but then at first it ended with "You really should take better care of your things." Then my computer broke. Two weeks later, I got my computer back all fresh and clean and I buckled down for another round of editing and writing. I went and wrote more exposition into the final scene and some "aha" time for Pharaoh. After that, I wrote the first table-top scene and the last thing I wrote was the little in-game clip. I was originally planning to have some of what's going on out in the cave in this chapter, but I think I'm going to use that to start off the next chapter now.

So, for the first tabletop scene there, I actually watched that last bit of episode 212 one line at a time and copied down the dialogue for refference material before I wrote the scene. Y'know, doing that really drives the point home how unfortunate the Engrish on these subtitles is, and places where I looked at the word used in the subtitles and went "... what the hell?" then looked it up and found that the subber had apparently grabbed a dictionary and then written down the wrong permutation of the word, for example, Yami-Bakura likes to reffer to Kaiba as 'Shyochyo,' 'President,' but in the subtitles it said "Chief"; so I read the subtitle, "It's showtime, Chief!" and I'm like "Is he just being cute?" but then Pharaoh is all like "Wait, Kaiba?" and I'm like "Hm, does he call Kaiba 'oyabu' (boss or gang-leader, sometimes used in a because-it's-funny context much like 'chief') or something?" and had to go back and check, then look up the word and ladeedahdeedah. Anyway.

Mot's comment about Apep being an older god than Ra, there's some mythology that refferences Apep as being a previous sun-god. As with any mythology spanning a lot of centuries and a large landmass, and being largely based oral-tradition, stories about Apep (and all the other gods) vary and contradict each other a lot. In later times, a lot of Apep's attributes even got reassigned to Set. Poor Set, he was totally Ra's best warrior and defender (he's the one said to have struck the killing blow to Apep) but he gets all the shit, just because he murdered his brother, tried to usurp the thrown of Egypt, slept with his nephew (whom he also tried to kill a few times), talked shit about his family...

So anyway, sorry about the long wait! Join my friends' RP and come play with me! I retconned Mot for it! Hesperadia on Livejournal, you can check out the journal Sentry_Ladon for the scoop.

"

_Hesperadia_

_an original character rp_

_You wake up and you remember everything._

_You remember a dream._

_And in that dream, you died._

_You have a purpose. You survived because someone brought you here. You survived because you are needed._

_Of course, it is not that simple. You are not all-powerful. You are not a God, and things are still trying to kill you. You must still eat, and find shelter and clothing._

_And there are others like you. Beings ripped from the edge of nothingness. But don't worry._

_You're being watched over._

_But if you die again, you won't have another chance._

_And the world will die as well._

"


	3. Chapter 3

"Ryou! Bakhura!" Malik was right in front of them, crouched over them, when they opened their eyes. He looked frantic, terrified and suddenly relieved as they slipped back into full consciousness. "Oh Jesus Christ!" he swore, dropping his head and laughing breathlessly. "_Fuck!"_

They turned their head slightly, toward the deep voice chanting next to them. Rishid had his eyes closed and hands pressed together as he continued to chant in liturgical Egyptian, the tattoos on his face seeming to glow, although it wasn't exactly light emanating from them so much as _power_. "Y-you..." they mumbled, and maybe it was Bakhura who was speaking, but it didn't feel as though Ryou was being pushed off to the side like it used to, "You did something to Mot...?"

"Rishid has been carrying a charm to ward off Mot for several years," Ishizu's voice explained, sounding almost calm but with a slight shake to it. They rolled their head the other way and caught sight of her.

"And Sek...?" Bakhura asked.

"We had to use something more broad-spectrum for him, but fortunately, as an underling of Apep, the banishing ritual seems to have worked well." Ishizu held up a skinny piece of wax filled with pins.

"Come here," Malik said, sliding a hand under their cheek and turning their face upward towards the ceiling. He brushed back their fringe and then his other hand reached forward, holding a paintbrush. They could feel cool, wet lines being traced on their forehead.

"What are you doing?" Ryou asked with tired curiosity.

"Talismaning the hell out of you," Malik said, pulling back the brush to examine his work.

"Talisman..." one of them mumbled, and then they turned to look down at the Millennium Ring laying on the sheets next to them. Bakhura couldn't feel the invisible strings tying them together, the tether that always pulled him back towards the dungeon within. Their hand moved over to touch it and then flinched away suddenly at the feeling of cold metal. It had never been cold before. Even when Ryou took it off for short periods, it had always been as warm as a human body when he picked it up again. But now it was cold. It was just metal. It wasn't tugging at Bakhura anymore. It was indifferent to him.

"Ryou?" Malik called next to them and their eyes flicked up, glancing at him momentarily before going back down to the ring and watching their hand tighten around it. "Hey! Sit down!" Malik demanded as they rolled to their feet. "Wait!"

"Your talismans are supposed to keep them away, but here we are keeping _their_ talisman... It's a fucking _door!_ If it was gone... If it was gone, maybe they couldn't find us!" their voice had started out loud but faded to a whisper by the end.

They held the ring up in front of them, staring at it for a moment, taking it in the way one might take in a residence that they were about to leave forever. And then they started running. Malik shouted behind them, but they ignored it, charging toward the mouth of the cave, their eyes intent on the darkness outside, like the empty darkness that would be on the other side of the sliding door now. Maybe there wouldn't even be a door. The ring flew from their hand and disappeared into the darkness outside. Gone.

"RYOU!" Malik shrieked, catching up and grabbing them by the shoulders. He spun them around and his eyes were wide, scared and confused. "What the fuck are you doing?"

It seemed so absurd, Malik looking that worried about the oversized piece of jewelry, that they started to giggle, and in a few moments they were laughing loudly, hysterically, gasping for more air as it all seemed to be siphoned into laughing. And then Malik slapped them hard in the face.

They staggered, feeling slightly stunned. The blow had managed to knock the laughing out of them and they were quiet as they turned and looked back up at Malik, slightly confused. "What is _wrong_ with you?" Malik shouted at them. "What about Bakhura?"

They blinked, trying to process why Malik was upset and what he was talking about. Oh. That's right. He thought Bakhura was still inside of the Millennium Ring. "I'm right here," Bakhura whispered, their lips sliding into an excited smile.

"Wha-" Malik started just before they pounced on him and threw their arms around his shoulders.

"It's gone!" Bakhura almost sang the words. "We tore down the dungeon and I never ever have to go back!" They started giggling again and tucked their head down against Malik's shoulder, trying to muffle themselves.

"... Merciful Heaven," Ishizu's voice whispered from somewhere nearby.

"Hey," Malik coaxed softly, pushing gently at their shoulders.

They backed up obligingly, letting go of Malik, and turned to see Ishizu stepping towards them. They stood still, with their breath still coming shallow and quick, as Ishizu reached out her hand and pressed it lightly to their forehead. She seemed to concentrate for a moment, then she put the other hand against their chest, right over their heart. _Their heart_.

"Incredible..." Ishizu breathed, finally stepping away and dropping her hands. "They're completely stable. Both souls are attached to the body as if it were... _natural_."

"It feels strange..." one of them mused. "Like... there isn't any space between us. Like we're overlapping."

"I imagine so," Ishizu said, holding their chin and turning their head this way and that as she continued examining them. "Half your soul is in common now..." Her eyes met theirs then, and she looked deadly-serious. "Bakura, I must ask you not to attempt any more magic for the time being. It is extremely dangerous for you to be manipulating these forces without training."

"I- I wasn't really _trying_ to do magic or anything. I wasn't even thinking, really. I just closed my eyes and reached," Ryou mumbled, fidgeting under Ishizu's grim expression. "Sometimes when I do that, the thing I want will be in my hand when I open my eyes..." he whispered.

Ishizu nodded slowly. "You have excellent intuition," she said. "But for now, don't do anything like that. It is very dangerous."

"Okay." They nodded.

"Ishizu," Rishid called softly. "We should get back to it."

"Yes! You're absolutely right, Rishid!" Ishizu agreed, turning back towards the brazier. "The potion is probably soft enough for Bakura to swallow now."

"Right," Malik agreed, putting his hand on their back and pulling them deeper into the cave. They were sat back down on the bed-roll where they'd been sleeping earlier and Ishizu fetched a box and a little bag on a long looped string, which she proceeded to fill with stones and shells she picked from the box.

Malik knelt down next to them and painted more characters on their skin, and Rishid disappeared. A few minutes later, he returned with a bottle of something truly vile looking and held it out to them. "Wh-what is that?" Ryou asked, their nose wrinkling in disgust at the sight of it and then even more so at the smell when Malik reached over and unscrewed the lid.

"Just beer, parchment and ink," Malik answered, flashing them a grin. "Bottoms up."

"Y-you're kidding…" Ryou felt their stomach turn at the mere thought of drinking the disgusting semi-liquid. "Oh God, are we seriously doing that old bullshit?" Bakhura groaned.

"Just be thankful Ishizu didn't decide to whip up a batch of _traditional_ beer," Malik answered with a shrug, grabbing their hand and putting the bottle into it.

"_Why?_" Ryou whined. "Because _eating_ a spell is better than just spelling it up or some stupid nonsense..." Bakhura grumbled.

"It's a protection spell," Malik explained. "Yes, you have to. Just hold your nose and drink it. Go."

Ryou cringed, but they brought the bottle slowly to their lips and took a sip. They gagged.

"Do _not_ spit it out," Malik ordered and they reluctantly swallowed. "The faster you drink it the faster it'll be over."

Somehow they managed to get the entire thing down without vomiting and afterwards Rishid brought them water and a bag of dried fruit chunks, which Ryou thanked him for profusely, desperate to get the taste out of their mouth. As they downed most of the water bottle and hesitantly munched on a few pieces of fruit (still feeling pretty queasy from the horrible spell-beer) Ishizu hung the bag of stones carefully from their neck and tied some cloth strips to them.

After they apparently had enough cloth strips on them, Ishizu unhooked the belt around her own waist and fastened it around theirs. Malik made an odd little sound beside them. "Really, Ishizu?" he asked in a skeptical and slightly amused voice. "I don't think his _womb_ is in any danger."

"Cowrie shells are good for more than that, Malik," Ishizu replied curtly. "It's better to over-prepare."

Malik let out something halfway between a snort and a laugh. "Yeah, okay."

"... I think this is pretty thorough," she said, looking them over and then nodded as she pushed herself to her feet. "Rishid should mind Bakura, he'll be most effective if _they_ assault him again. Malik, you and I should continue the banishing ceremony."

After a short pause, Malik reluctantly nodded. He caught their hand and gave it a squeeze. "Try to get some sleep, okay? You look exhausted."

"... Okay. We'll try," Ryou agreed quietly, nodding their head.

...

The demon-Bakura laughed out loud, despite having just lost what Pharaoh would have thought was a key player. "_Wow, that's incredible! The little blue-eyes girl really is something. It's all useless of course, but it's still impressive how tenaciously human beings cling to their existence. Extraordinary creatures._"

"You don't have Seth now," Pharaoh leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "It seems bringing Kaiba here has been entirely pointless for you."

"_Hm, yeah, I guess it was. Silly me,_" the demon shrugged. "_It doesn't really matter though. He was a minor character, not much of a loss._" It twirled a lock of hair around its fingers, feigning distraction. "_And in the end, you're meant to loose. You're just fighting fate. Lord Apep will rule this land and all lands, and I can assure you Pharaoh, you'll be the first against the wall._"

Pharaoh narrowed his eyes. If Apep was revived, how could they fight him? A demon so powerful it had nearly unseated Ra. How were _humans_ supposed to fight something like that? And where were the gods? Did they not care? Or were they all gone now? Lost to time...

No. Even if Apep were unleashed on the mortal world, there had to be ways to fight him. It had been done before, hadn't it? Three thousand years ago, he'd somehow prevented Apep from destroying his world. But how had he done it? How was he supposed to do a damned thing if he couldn't remember what had happened three thousand years ago? He couldn't remember the education he must have had, and how could he fight an eldritch horror when he didn't _know_ anything? When he didn't even know...

His name.

Why had every record of his name disappeared? It didn't make sense. A Pharaoh ought to have their name etched over just about every surface available to insure their survival in the afterlife. All the Pharaohs did, unless their graves and monuments were vandalized. And there hadn't been any vandalism, no sign of someone trying to erase him. None of the people in this world even remembered what he was called. As if his name had been erased by magic. He glanced down at the blank cartouche hanging from his neck.

"_Ah? Have you figured it out now?_" Bakura's distorted voice jeered from across the table. "_The eighth key to Lord Apep's seal?_"

"An intangible, because there isn't a place for it in the alter stone," the Pharaoh said quietly. His eyes flicked up to glare at the demon, who just grinned back at him like a Cheshire Cat. "An _unknown_ intangible. Something you and I are _both_ trying to find. My _name._"

"_Bravo! Bravo!_" the demon-Bakura clapped its hands. "_You're a regular Sherlock Holms there, aren't you?_" It laughed. "_But isn't it sad that with all your masterful sleuthing, you still don't have the slightest clue where to find your mysterious lost name..._"

"Neither do _you_," the Pharaoh said defiantly. "And you can't revive Apep without it, can you."

The demon laughed hard. "_Silly silly you! You should have read the rule-book better!_" it declared. "_Because that rule isn't in it._" It grinned wide at Pharaoh, it's not quite human teeth gleaming brightly. "_And besides that, we know exactly where it is, and we'll have it very very soon._" 

The Pharaoh froze, a chill running down his spine. It was bluffing. It had to be. Why would it take so much effort to find his name if it didn't _need _it to break the seal on Apep? "You're bluffing," he accused.

The demon chuckled, its lips closing but remaining just as wide in their mocking smile. "_Am I?_" It asked cheekily. "_Well it might interest you to know that your little friends have found their way into your burial grounds. They are probably moments from finding your name within there._"

"My friends...? They're... in my _tomb?_" he sat forward in his chair and caught the edge of the table.

"_Oh yes,_" the demon purred. "_It's the one place in this world where your name can be found. Of course, only people you really, truly trust could ever enter there._"

Pharaoh's grip on the edge of the table relaxed a little, but he knew there _had_ to be a catch. "Then _you_ could never find it," he prompted.

"_You'd think that, wouldn't you?_" it giggled. "_But maybe when you had the chance, you should have checked your dear associates for... __**parasites**__._"

The Pharaoh's stomach plummeted. "W-who?" he whispered.

"_The tall one,_" the demon sang. "_Personally, I prefer blonds, but tall, dark and stupid actually went and made skin-to-skin contact with our dolly!_"

Pharaoh felt himself growing cold with horror. How had he not seen it? When Honda punched the Thief King at the gorge...

"_I think we probably could have made better use of little Bakhura if my counterpart had stayed with him, but having the Honda boy offered up on a silver platter like that, well, it's just too great an opportunity to pass up!_"

"... Bastard..." he whispered.

"_Oh, now that's not very nice,_" the demon mocked. "_But I suppose it won't be very nice when my brother kills all of your little chums. As soon as they find your name..._"

Pharaoh clenched his teeth hard. It was taunting him. It was trying to make him careless. That's all there was to it. There probably wasn't any tomb to begin with.

But if there was...?

Then why would the demon _tell_ him about it?

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, glaring hard at the demon.

"_Why, to distract you of course,_" it replied smugly.

"Distract me? From what?"

"_From this!_" the demon reached over and tapped a finger nail against the hour-glass counting down the seconds to Apep's revival. Just as the last grains of sand slipped through the neck.

...

"_Backwards, rebel! His rays are piercing! Backwards, rebel! His rays are piercing!_

"_Re has rejected your words! Your face will be averted by the gods! Your heart will be torn out by Mafdt! Your fetters will be put on by Hededet! Your execution will be carried out by Ma'at! She will overthrow you, after Those who are on the forad have_- Oh _SHIT!_"

Malik broke the chant suddenly as he felt a massive wave of icy cold _evil_ wash through the cave, and continue past them, through them, rushing to spread over the Earth. Beside him, Ishizu had gone silent too, her eyes wide and terrified.

And then the light started to dim.

It was mid-morning and they had been standing in the sunlight at the mouth of the cave. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. And the sunlight was suddenly becoming weak. "E-eclipse..." Ishizu whispered.

"... It's happening..." Malik breathed, feeling too numb with disbelief to be scared, but his legs were starting to shake. "It's really happening..."

Wind started whipping around the canyon, growing in velocity as the sun grew dimmer. Thunderheads began to form out of nowhere. Rain started to not so much fall as shoot around, as the wind picked it up and threw it with stinging force into every surface. Lighting lashed out brightly across the sky and was followed immediately by a loud peal of thunder.

Ishizu grabbed Malik's arm and pulled him back inside the cave, away from the open mouth and nearer to the hearth, where the fire was being all but extinguished by the errant gusts of howling wind that licked over the inside of their cave. "Malik!" she shouted over the sound, "Keep reciting! _She will overthrow you, after Those who are on the forad have overthrown you!_"

"_Fall down, glide away, Apep, enemy of Re!_" Malik rejoined, falling back into unison with his sister, and behind him he could hear Rishid's deep voice now joining them as well. "_Oh, leave the edge in the east of the sky, at the thundering sound of its roaring! May the gates of the horizon open before Re!_"

...

_I lost them!_ Sek shouted into Mot's mind.

"_YOU WHAT?_" Mot's hands slammed down on the table, his eyes wide, before remembering where he was and quickly sitting back down, trying to school his face. _How could you loose them?_

_Stop wasting time with stupid questions! They'll run straight to the Pharaoh!_

Mot gritted his teeth. Not good not good not good. _Take the riders! I'll go to Master's side to intercept them if they get past you __**again**__!_

_Shut up and go!_

"What's the matter?" the Pharaoh asked across from him, his eyes gleaming with a curious smugness.

"_Nothing. I'm just bored with this now. Maybe I'm just an adrenaline junky, but I'd much rather be down in the thick of it, you know?_" Mot nodded to the game board. "_There's not much point in this charade now. We don't __**need**__ to play games anymore._"

"... I agree," the Pharaoh said. "This would be better in the first-person view."

"_See you there then._" Mot grinned through his teeth, hoping he didn't look nervous, and dove into the board.

...

They were screaming into the cacophony, their hands linked and their stances solid to keep from getting knocked over by the unnatural wind. Malik didn't even know if he was still in sync with his siblings; he couldn't hear their voices over the wind and thunder. He just kept shouting against it, kept reciting the banishing ceremony with as much strength as he could muster.

Ryou was beside him now, holding Malik's left hand and adding his strength to their efforts, even though he didn't know the words. Or even how to control himself. It was well past the point for Ishizu to complain about the danger in allowing Ryou's wild-magic to be unbridled; taking the gamble on his abilities couldn't hurt their odds too much anymore.

Suddenly a new wave of power crashed over them and Malik thought for a moment that he'd been struck by the lightning. The searing, fiery power raged past him and made his every nerve burn with the heat of the sun.

Then it was past them, and Malik found himself half-collapsed on the floor of the cave, gasping raggedly, his body tingling with residual shock. After a moment, he realized that he could hear his siblings and Ryou panting on either side of him. He held his breath and listened to the wind, it was dying down, it now could have passed for a perfectly normal storm, and a few minutes later, as Malik managed to get his breathing back to something like normal, there was no wind at all, and sunlight was spilling over the wet ground at the mouth of the cave.

"Is... Is it over...?" Ryou whispered beside him. Malik turned to look at him, he was wide-eyed and visibly shaking.

"... Pharaoh has won," Ishizu breathed and Malik watched her climb shakily to her feet.

Ryou moved so quickly he almost seemed to teleport, and all at once his arms were around Malik's neck and clinging fiercely as he shook, his breaths halting and congested. Malik returned the hug and stayed right there, sitting on the stone floor and holding Ryou- them, he didn't know who was freaking out now, probably both- as the other boy started to sniffle and break into exhausted and overwhelmed tears.

After several minutes, Ishizu's voice cut through, "We must go meet him."

"Y-yeah," Malik mumbled and reluctantly pulled away from Ryou, climbing to his feet and holding out his hands to help them up as well.

"W-what a-are..." Ryou -it sounded like Ryou- stammered, keeping hold of both Malik's hands after he was standing and looking around with a lost expression.

"We're going to go back to where the tablet chamber is again and meet them when they come up," Malik explained softly, tugging them along and walking back towards the mouth of the cave. He paused, looking back at Ryou's reddened face and neck. "Hang on," he said, dropping their hands, and hurried over to one of the bed-rolls, pulling the sheet out of it.

"Here, I don't want you getting any more sunburned," he said, throwing the sheet around Ryou's shoulders and pulling it up to cover his head like a hood.

"O-okay," Ryou agreed in a bare whisper, still looking very dazed.

...

Hathor was shining so brightly, he couldn't look directly at her. Like the sun, only right in front of them and larger than anything, short of a sky-scraper, Pharaoh had ever seen. Mother. Mother of all Pharaohs. Mother of creation, whom dispelled the original darkness of the Nu to bring forth the universe. She was breathtaking. He dropped to his knees without conscious decision and bowed his head.

"Divine Hathor..." he whispered. He knew who she had to be, because, as her light permeated his being, every lock seemed to come undone and memories flooded back. His name was Atem. Atem. Atem. When he read it from the silver cartouche, his mind had become so clear and calm; he had moved and spoken without even knowing what he was doing. And he had summoned into this world _Hathor_. Unbelievable.

"_Atem,_" Hathor's voice echoed and reverberated against every surface, through every organ in his body. Atem's body. He was Atem. She was addressing him.

"Devine Hathor!" Atem bowed his head low, almost kowtowing.

"_Three thousand years ago, there was a Pharaoh unable to defeat Apep,_" Hathor said. Atem felt guilty suddenly, like a scolded child. "_That Pharaoh chose to seal himself away, along with Apep's body, to protect his kingdom._"

"I- I..." Atem stammered, the Divine Mother's choice of words confusing him.

"_It is a very different Pharaoh who stands before me today._"

He tried to look up at her for a moment and was blinded, he quickly ducked his head again.

"_This is a Pharaoh whom deigns to be human. This is a Pharaoh who sees in his subjects hearts and souls, and not just numbers," Hathor's voice boomed all around him. "This is a Pharaoh who understands the gift of friendship that was given to humanity. This is a Pharaoh who has learned to love and to trust in his friends._"

Atem stared at the sand in front of him. Hadn't he known that before? How could he not? But... he could remember, three thousand years ago, ordering his people back behind the walls, and standing by himself before Apep, arrogantly challenging the enemy of _Ra himself_ to duel him, a _mortal_ being, as an equal.

"_It is only through the hearts of friends combined, joined in their hearts by love and trust, that the Great Destroyer may be defeated. For it is only in these conditions that the light of hope and joy shines stronger in the hearts of men than the dark shadows of fear and ignorance._" Hathor's voice seemed to become somehow even stronger than before as she declared, "_In three thousand years, Pharaoh Atem, you have finally learned trust._"

...

...

Cultural Notes:

The wax with pins in it, yeah, that's taken from the actual ceremony for banishing Apep. The priests would roll out wax snakes and then stick pins in them, or cut them up, spit on them, throw them in fires, etc.

Parchment dissolved in beer- one of the various methods used for imbibing magic in Ancient Egypt. Words and written-words in particular were thought to hold a great deal of power. The traditional beer Malik refers to would be made by mushing up bread in water and fermenting it.

The strips of cloth- strips of linen with a Wedjat eye painted on them were a very common talisman.

Cowrie shells- Cowrie shells have been a common talisman for a lot of cultures, particularly associated with femininity and feminine fertility because it looks like a vulva.

Author's Notes:

You've probably noticed a shift in both the pronouns and names Ryou's perspective uses as of this chapter. The pronoun shift is to represent that they're kind of moving in sync moreso now than before, and that Ryou isn't really thinking of his body as his anymore, but rather theirs. As for using Bakhura's name instead of "Thief," like I used to have going in Ryou-POV, their perspectives are blended together moreso now; before they knew what the other was thinking, but now they're thinking the same. So, uh, yeah, because I figured I'd probably get some questions about those decisions.

My description of "wild-magic" is inspired by Diana Wynn Jones' "A Sudden Wild Magic." I don't know if it was ever published States-side.

That ending speech of Hathor's, I just kind of paraphrased what I thought my Engrish subtitles said, and then I made it sound less hokey, but still pretty corny...

Uhm, hm, comments! Review! Ask me questions and stuff! I'm planning on after I finally finish this up, I'll make an extra "chapter" detailing some rejected ideas from this series and answering questions from my readers. And no, this is in no way the end here. This is just where I finish up synchronizing my fic with the events of the memory-world stuff, next chapter, on to real-time angsts!


	4. Chapter 4

"How did you even _get_ here? _You're_ not supposed to be in there!" Yuugi heard Malik's voice demanding from the top of the stairs. He panted and kept forcing his feet up one stair after another; it hadn't been _nearly_ this hard on the way down.

"I don't see how that's any of _your_ business," Kaiba's voice replied in a bored, irritated tone. Why didn't he even sound winded? That was _so_ unfair.

"Not my _business?_" Malik blustered. "My family's been guarding this chamber for three _thousand_ fucking _years!_ Of _course_ it's my business!"

_Finally_ Yuugi stumbled into the daylight at the top of the stairs and promptly sat down in the damp sand, gasping and pressing a hand to his chest; his lungs felt like they were on fire.

Jonouchi collapsed next to him a moment later and sat there wheezing, with Honda and Anzu in close pursuit.

"Pharaoh, your journey was successful," Ishizu's voice came from just in front of him and Yuugi looked up to find her crouching over him. "Words cannot describe how thankful I am that you have brought this to an end," she said, smiling at him, her eyes glowing with sincere happiness.

Yuugi was nudged aside and felt relieved as the Pharaoh- no, Atem- took over his body and Yuugi no longer had to feel his burning lungs and aching extremities. "Thank you, Ishizu. I'm glad to be done with this too," he said, doing his best to make breathless sound dignified.

"Oh yeah? All done playing around, fighting chaos gods and stuff?" a voice that made Yuugi and the Atem both freeze asked, and before Atem could even look up to find the source hands grabbed his collar and dragged him up off the ground before slamming Yuugi's body into the rock face behind him. "_Then I'm going to fucking kill you, you son of a bitch!_"

The breath he'd only just been beginning to catch was knocked out of Yuugi's body again when he hit the cliff, and Yuugi felt guiltily thankful that he wasn't the one controlling his body right now. As Atem grasped desperately for equilibrium, he and Yuugi found themselves looking into two _very_ angry brown eyes. One of Bakura's hands let go of his collar and pulled back to punch him so fast Atem hadn't finished being startled well enough to react.

He was saved by Rishid, who caught Bakura and pulled him back kicking and screaming. "I'LL KILL YOU!" Bakura flailed and thrashed, and it was obvious Rishid, massive wall of a man that he was, was only barely managing to keep a grip on him. "I'M GONNA CUT OUT YOUR FUCKING TONGUE AND SMASH YOUR EYEBALLS! I'M GONNA OPEN YOUR BELLY AND DRESS YOU IN YOUR INTESTINES! I'M GONNA BURN OFF YOur dklss..." Bakura trailed off and his head suddenly dropped down, his body going limp in Rishid's arms.

There was sudden silence, except for Malik making a worried sound and moving to check on Bakura, adjusting the sheet Bakura seemed to be wrapped in, as Rishid eased the unconscious boy to the ground. "He passed-out... I guess it was bound to happen," Malik sighed.

"I'm leaving," Kaiba announced in a cool irritated voice before turning and walking away from them.

"Hey! Kaiba! You're in the middle of the desert, stupid! Do you think you're just gonna _walk_ home or something?" Jonouchi yelled after him.

"_Or_ I could just take the ATV I used to _get_ here," Kaiba called back and then added in a quieter but still very audible voice, "_moron_."

"_What did you call me?_"

"Jonouchi, would you _shut up?_" Anzu slapped him in the back of the head. "Malik, is Bakura- he's still-?"

"He's exhausted and pretty burned," Malik answered. "I think _he_ actually _did_ walk here."

"He _sounded_ completely _psychotic_," Honda noted.

"Yeah, y'know, they were kinda half asleep five minutes ago, so I thought maybe they'd be out of it enough that Thief would forget to be homicidal," Malik said, biting his lip. "And I really wouldn't be all that surprised if Ryou wants a crack at Pharaoh too..."

"So what, he's just gonna attack Yuugi again when he wakes up?" Jonouchi demanded.

"It's not like he's unjustified..." Yuugi mumbled, belatedly noticing that he'd said it out loud and was the one in control of his body again.

"Yuugi, stop! This is serious!" Anzu exclaimed.

"I wasn't joking." Yuugi looked away.

"It would be best to keep you separated for the time being," Ishizu said calmly. "We need to pack up the cars and then we can head back to Cairo."

"Okay. Can we help?" Yuugi asked trying to shake off what had just happened and make himself useful.

"If you like."

"Oh, yeah, and- mm, we're going to have to dig for the Millennium Ring..." Malik said, scratching the back of his head.

Yuugi blinked. "Dig?"

"Yeah, they kind of... threw it out of the cave... and that was before the storm started, so... that thing's pretty damn buried..." Malik looked somewhere between embarrassed and amused.

"Right," Ishizu sighed, apparently just remembering that detail when Malik mentioned it. "We should have fetched it immediately. Pharaoh, if you will lend me the use of the Millennium Necklace, I should be able to locate the Ring."

"Er, y-yeah! Go ahead!" Yuugi grabbed up his duffle bag and fished through it for the Millennium Necklace.

...

It was a three and a half hour drive back to Cairo and Anzu had volunteered herself to ride in Rishid's car, along with Malik and Bakura, citing that if the latter woke up, she was probably the person he was least likely to get into a fight with. She was riding up in the front passenger's seat and Malik and Bakura were in the back, Bakura laying across the seat with his head resting in Malik's lap.

Anzu kept twisting around in her seat to look at them. Malik didn't seem to even notice. His whole attention was focused on Bakura, his left arm laying protectively around the other boy and his right hand slowly stroking Bakura's rather tangled and dirty hair. The tenderness in the scene would have been enough to make her go weak at the knees if she'd been standing.

"Do you love him?" Anzu was shocked to hear the question come out of her own mouth and inwardly kicked herself for being so direct and _nosey_.

Malik started just a little when Anzu spoke, it looked more as though he'd forgotten her presence than that he was upset by the question. He was silent for a few minutes, not looking up at Anzu. "Him?" he asked at last. "Don't talk as though Thief doesn't exist."

He had to mean the other Bakura. Of course. If Malik and Bakura had been associating during Battle City, Malik had to be well acquainted with the _other_ Bakura; they might have even been working together at the time, though Malik had been a little tight-lipped about the whole evil plot thing. He would have known both Bakuras at the same time, and Anzu was more and more beginning to believe that the two versions of Bakura were more connected than they used to think.

"I- I wasn't meaning to suggest that he didn't exist, but they're two different people, so it's not like you could-"

"Don't pretend to be _stupid_, Anzu," Malik snapped, then his voice became quiet again. "They're _two_ people, but they're not _separate_ people... That's something you guys never got about them. Not that that's your fault. I know they played it that way around you, pretending that they couldn't even talk to each other or something..."

"... Right..." Anzu said quietly, looking down. "It's like Yuugi and Atem, I suppose."

Malik shook his head. "They've been together longer. Yuugi and the Pharaoh don't... they don't synchronize well. It's like switching channels with them. With Thief and Ryou... it's more like kids holding hands. Sometimes one of them can get worked up and drag the other one somewhere and they'll struggle a little, but mostly they move together." He sighed, brushing his finger tips lightly over Bakura's face. "But I don't think they fight very often, since they don't have a whole lot of room for miscommunication when they're sharing their thoughts directly... When they do, Ryou always wins."

"Really?" Anzu asked, surprised.

"Does that seem weird?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, Bakura-kun is so sweet and polite and mild, and that other Bakura is so... _aggressive_," Anzu explained, feeling rather foolish.

"Thief's not all there, and he knows it." Malik shrugged one shoulder. "Ryou's real level-headed... And he's not 'mild' the way Yuugi is. He's not timid. He doesn't need to be aggressive, because he knows how to talk people in circles until they think they're getting their way when really he's getting his." A little smile made its way to Malik's lips. "He did that to me a few times, and I didn't notice until hours later." He gave a very soft chuckle, "He's probably done it to me more times than I've noticed, actually."

Anzu's cute-o-meter exploded; she suppressed a squeal. "You _do_ love him," she cooed happily. "I'm glad. You're so much better than any of those guys back home that he-" Anzu slapped her hands over her own mouth, utterly horrified with herself.

Malik's head was leaned forwards, hair blocking half his face. "... Yuugi told me that Ryou threw himself into several doomed relationships when his memories were blocked," he said quietly. He moved his arms around Bakura and lifted him slightly, hugging the unconscious teenager, one hand sliding up into the tangled white hair to support his head. He was silent for a while and then he shifted again, leaning back against the seat and adjusting Bakura to lean against him.

"Ryou hasn't been alone for one second in six years. Suddenly separating them, it would probably be something like solitary confinement in prison for him..." Malik said, leaning Bakura's head against his shoulder and then staring out the window at nothing while he continued. "But because of the block, he couldn't even know why or how he was being tortured."

Anzu didn't even notice she'd brought her hand to her mouth until she found that she was biting her knuckle. Her eyes were burning and she felt sick. Why hadn't she been able to see how badly he was hurting? Why couldn't any of them see it when Malik talked as though it were completely obvious, and hadn't even _been_ there?

"... I don't even know what happened to Bakhura the last two months..." Malik sighed, closing his eyes. "He probably won't tell me. He was acting all kinds of Stockholms when Ryou pulled him out of that micro-dimension or whatever."

Anzu pressed her cheek against the side of the chair, processing that. "He was that Thief-King in the memory-world," she said slowly. "He wanted to kill Atem... I- I don't know why... We only met up with him for a little while..."

"Revenge."

"Well, yes, but what could he possibly-"

"The Pharaoh's army massacred his village," Malik said in a flat tone. "I don't know much about him, but he was happy enough to talk shit about the Egyptians."

Anzu stared at him, blank, not knowing what emotion to fill the space with. "B- but- why? That- it couldn't be!"

"It has to be true, actually." Malik shook his head slowly. "It makes perfect sense. That's why he was Apep's avatar. He was the walking-sacrifice."

"W-what?" Anzu could feel herself shaking; she felt cold, even with the African sun pouring in the windows around her.

"The reason the Millennium Items are called that," Malik explained in a slow, quiet voice, not looking at her, "is because they need one thousand blood-sacrifices to be forged. Bakhura was one-thousand-and-one. Their living puppet to complete the ceremony that would open the gates of the Underworld for Apep. Because a demon can't physically manifest in our world without the help of a mortal."

"But- b-but..." Anzu whimpered.

"The Pharaoh we know would have been an infant when it happened," Malik said and Anzu found herself letting out a little breath of relief. Atem couldn't have known, couldn't have been involved. "They would have chosen a child old enough to survive without a mother, but young enough to mold into what they wanted."

"... They?" Anzu asked in a tiny whisper.

"Apep and his servants," Malik sighed and looked out the window. "In the cave, Bakhura was babbling about 'Sek,' it sounds like that's the demon that raised him."

Anzu sat quietly, curled round with her knees tucked up on the seat and the belt twisted around her as she stared at Malik, and Bakura's unconscious form, his face relaxed and placid now, baring no hint of the horrible past Malik was talking about. "... Why are you calling him that? Doesn't he have his own name?" she asked after a while.

"That is his name," Malik answered, turning to look at her again. "'Bakhura,' It means 'The Sun rising over the Eastern Mountains'. That's probably how he ended up with Ryou in the first place. Somebody mispronounced his father's name when he was in Egypt six years ago. 'Bakhu' and 'Ra,' they're both names that anybody grade-schooler in Egypt knows. It would be a natural way for someone to interpret 'Bakura' here." He looked back down and brushed away Bakura's fringe. "A local probably said it like that, and that woke Bakhura up."

"Wow..." Anzu whispered. They rode in silence for several minutes, Anzu leaning sideways against the back of her seat, turning the entire story over in her head. "You said that Bakhura didn't tell you much. Did you figure all this out?"

"I've been doing a lot of thinking the past two months," Malik replied.

"I guess so." Anzu nodded slowly, her cheek rubbing against the scratchy upholstery. "So that's why he hates Atem so much..."

"Mm, well, I think that's going to kind of be old news now." Malik grimaced, looking a bit worried.

"What do you mean?" Anzu frowned.

"Well, I think at this point, what the Pharaoh did to Ryou is going to be a bit fresher than that..."

"Oh," Anzu nodded; then the full weight of that statement settled. "_Oh._"

"Ryou's his whole world," Malik murmured. "Before Ryou, the only... _individuals_ Bakhura would have had prolonged contact with were hell-spawn."

"Oh."

"And even if he didn't know how the memory-block was going to affect them, what the Pharaoh did was still an incredible violation." Malik caught Bakura's hand as the other squirmed slightly in his sleep; the gesture seemed to calm his dreams and Bakura quieted, leaning into Malik. "But I doubt Bakhura would care whether or not Pharaoh knew," Malik whispered, adjusting his arms around Bakura. "He'll hate him just as much for being willfully ignorant."

"I... I wish I'd done something." Anzu squeezed her eyes shut, a lump in her throat and a heat that heralded tears scratching at her eyes. "At first, when he was seeing Kisho, he seemed _happy_, but then, when we came back from America, he was just _terrible!_"

"Anzu..." Malik said quietly. "Yuugi tried to talk to me a few times... about how to reverse the memory-block."

Anzu blinked quickly. "He did?"

"When we finally managed to talk was when he left the Millennium Puzzle behind." Malik looked up and met her eyes with a sober gaze. "Anzu, the reason Ryou and Bakhura can coexist so well is because they're evenly matched. Ryou may be a little surer but, like you said, Bakhura is aggressive, so they balance each other out... Yuugi's not as strong as the Pharaoh."

Anzu stared back at him, starting to feel cold again. "What are you saying?"

"... He could disappear, Anzu." Malik broke eye-contact and looked out the window, at nothing. "Do you remember that the demon in me almost erased my consciousness, in Battle City?"

"But that didn't happen!" Anzu protested.

"Because Pharaoh, and you guys and my family helped me." Malik closed his eyes. "If Rishid hadn't seen what was happening to me and made a seal against Mot... I would have stopped existing when I was twelve." He paused for several moments. "And that was a _demon_. It's difficult for them to take over a human body. But for a human soul, it's natural. One could do it accidentally, if it outweighed the personality that was supposed to be there."

Anzu was biting her knuckle again. Her breath was fast and agitated and she could feel the tears starting to make their way out of her eyes. "Th-that's not possible," she whispered. "Yuugi..."

"He could be eclipsed Anzu. A few months, a few years, as they get closer together, and harder to tell apart..." Malik looked back at her again. "Pharaoh won't mean to do it. I can't see any reason he'd ever _try_ to. But he pushes Yuugi around too much... And Yuugi _lets_ him."

A little sob got away from her. "W-why are you...?"

"I know how you feel, Anzu. It's... really hard to feel like an outsider. Like you're only ever hearing half of the conversation. Like there's an inside joke and you're not a part of it. It's... a really weird kind of jealousy." Malik gazed at Bakura's sleeping face with a pained expression as he spoke. "And it's probably harder to even deal with the concept for you, coming from a strictly monogamous upbringing."

"I- I'm not talking about this!" Anzu shouted, turning around in her seat and squeezing her eyes shut.

"... Yuugi needs you," Malik said quietly.

"_I'm not talking about this!_" Anzu shook her head violently and gripped the edge of the seat, digging her fingers into the cushion. "What are we going to do about accommodations anyway?" she demanded, changing the subject. "The hostel only has a boys' room and a girls' room. We can't just put Yuugi and Bakura in the same room, they'll kill each other in their sleep!"

"Ishizu will want to keep a close eye on Bakura for the next few days."

Anzu very nearly jumped out of her skin. She'd somehow completely forgotten that Rishid was even there. He was so _quiet!_ And how could Malik just talk about _things_ when there was another person right _next_ to them? "I- I- well- I- then what- I mean-" she stammered, her face heating up and her whole body tensed up with horrible embarrassment.

"They'll stay at our flat!" Malik exclaimed, his mood taking a complete 180.

"Returning him to Japan is the bigger issue," Rishid said in deep, placid tones. "He must have had a passport to get here, but he came out to the canyon carrying nothing."

"We didn't check his coat," Malik pointed out. "Ishizu just stuffed it in the bag. A passport could have fit in the pockets on that thing."

Anzu felt the strong desire to crawl into the tiny gap between the cushions of the seat and disappear. Malik seemed to have completely switched gears without any difficulty, and Rishid acted like the last half-hour had been spent listening to the radio or something.

"Well, if we can't find one, I guess we'll just have to keep him," Malik said brightly.

"That would make him an illegal immigrant, Malik," Rishid replied. "And he does have family in Japan, does he not?"

"_Sometimes_," Malik sniffed.

...

They woke up with cool air on their cheek and soft sheets around them. They blinked slowly. They were still tired, but the need to know where they were was outweighing that. They'd woken up so many unfamiliar places in the past few days...

Sitting up, they found a small, modern-looking room, with venetian blinds over the window. Aside from the bed they were sitting on, it was furnished with an overflowing bookshelf, a wardrobe and a cheaply made desk with a laptop computer and scattered papers sitting atop it. "It's... normal," Ryou observed. "Any country in the world could have thousands of rooms that look like this," Bakhura said, still agitated.

They glanced down at the covers pooled around their waist and, on an impulse, pulled a handful of sheets to their face and inhaled slowly. "... Malik," Ryou said, the tension of uncertainty draining out of their body. "Where is he?" Bakhura murmured, pushing the covers back down and swinging their legs over the side of the bed.

The floor was the cheap, mass-manufactured kind of wood paneling you find in chain hardware stores, and it was cool under their feet. They nudged open the door, which had been left ajar and wandered out into a dark hallway. They spotted a half-open door on the right side of the hallway. It was dark inside there also, but they could see the slight gleam of tiles in the ambient nighttime light. A bathroom.

They continued past to an open passage with no door, leading into a small living room. There was a body curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, a bit of blond hair peaking out. They sighed, another touch of relief soaking through them, and padded over to the couch. "Malik," they called, crouching down and pushing gently at what looked like a shoulder.

"Mmh?" Malik jerked slightly, waking with a start, and then rolled over, blinking at them. He smiled, letting out a breath. "You're awake."

"Yeah." They nodded. "Where are we?"

"My place. You passed out back at the canyon, you've been out of it for a few hours..." He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. "-time is it?"

"I d'know," Ryou said, glancing around, as though that would solve the mystery.

"How do you feel?" Malik asked, levering himself to a sitting position.

"Hm... tired…" Ryou sighed. "Itchy," Bakhura added.

"Don't scratch," Malik said, smiling softly. "Your neck is really burned."

"Yeah... it feels like hell," Bakhura mumbled, sliding their hand experimentally over the back of their neck and feeling the flesh burn and sting underneath.

"You were really red yesterday," Malik started to reach out and then stopped and let his hand drop. "Most of it cleared up. Heat-rash, I guess."

"Mm." They nodded, and studied the fabric of the blanket Malik was cocooned in for a while. "It's cold now."

"That happens at night. Especially in dry places," Malik agreed. "Do you want another blanket?"

"No." They stood up slowly and looked down at Malik as another moment of silence stretched between them. Then they held out their hand.

Malik looked at the hand for a few moments, seeming confused, then looked up at their face and slowly slid his hand into theirs, climbing to his feet. He paused there a minute and then stepped into them and leaned his head down on their shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Okay..." Ryou whispered, and they stood motionless for several minutes. A knot formed in their throat and they started to shake. Malik's arms came up around them. "... We're not okay," Ryou whimpered, his voice cracking.

Malik held them tight until their shaking subsided. They leaned away, sniffling, and Bakhura whispered, "It's cold."

"Yeah," Malik agreed softly.

They caught Malik's hand again and pulled him along as they walked back through the hall to the place they'd woken up a little while ago. They nudged Malik to climb into the bed first and then gingerly settled in next to him, laying on their side, looking into Malik's face through the darkness. Malik hesitated slightly but put an arm over their waist. After a moment, they squirmed closer, until their nose was an inch from Malik's.

"What are we supposed to do?" Ryou whispered. "Everybody's acting like he's some kind of hero- and he is, he saved the world and shit..." they weren't sure who said that. "But he _hurt_ us, Malik."

"I know, baby." Malik found their hands and gripped them between their bodies. "I know he did... But I don't know how to handle it either... I've been trying to figure that out and I- I can't..."

"We can't go back," Bakhura said, and then Ryou closed his eyes and said it too, "We can't go back to Japan with them. With _him_."

"Ryou... what about your grandmother? And your dad too... You can't just disappear."

They sobbed. "We can't go! We want to stay here with you!" They pushed forward and pressed their face against Malik's shoulder, shaking again and sobbing a few more times.

"Not here," Malik murmured. "Not Egypt... Now that this prophesy-bullshit is over, I'm getting the hell away from this place as fast as I can."

They hiccupped. "Where are you going to go?" Ryou whispered.

"I don't know... Everywhere... I want to go around the whole world..."

"C-can we come?"

"Well... you've got a passport."

...

...

A/N: This is a kinda transitiony chapter, I guess, _still not the end though!_ I don't think I had anything in here that needed a cultural note or anything... hm... I think this is just going to be a short author's note.

So, I guess I'll leave you with the question of: What happened to my livejournal readers? Are you still alive?

To FFnet readers, please review, and to people in general, after I do finish this story up, I'll be tacking on a question/answer sort of not-chapter at the end in which I'll address comments from readers and also share some of the ideas I had but ultimately rejected through the course of this series.


	5. Chapter 5

Ishizu found the couch abandoned in the morning when she walked through the living room. She tilted her head and listened for running water. She heard the sink in the bathroom go on for a few seconds and then off, and then on again a few seconds later. Rishid shaving. Not Malik.

She moved across to the kitchen, setting the kettle to heat on the stove and assembling four cups, before going back out into the hall and giving Malik's unlatched door a nudge. Her brother and Bakura were nestled together on the twin-sized bed, Bakura wearing a spare pair of Malik's pajamas, and the covers kicked off in the morning's warmth. She smiled at how child-like they looked, although she had realized some time ago that Malik's feelings for the other teenager weren't very childish.

"Malik," she called, and Malik started awake, his head jerking up as he mumbled a groggy non-word.

"Gfuh buh- 'shizu? What?" he asked, blinking, and then noticing he was partially pinned down by Bakura when he tried to sit up. He flushed a little and gave Ishizu a slightly guilty, embarrassed look.

"It's morning," Ishizu stated. "I'm starting breakfast now. We were going to meet with the others later."

"Oh, oh yeah," Malik answered vaguely, nodding. "Okay, yeah, thanks Sister."

"You're welcome." She nodded and headed back towards the kitchen.

...

"Hey..." Malik started, looking down at his plate as he pushed around a bit of ful and egg. "We... we're supposed to go and meet them today... Will you be okay?" He slowly looked up the duet, biting his lip. They just stared back at him silently for several seconds. "I mean," Malik mumbled, "can you handle that?"

Ryou's head turned, looking down at the table for a moment before he spoke in a low voice. "I suppose we're to play tourist for the rest of the week?" he said.

"I think that was the plan, yeah." Malik nodded. "Their return-flight is on Saturday... I don't suppose you have a return-flight booked..."

"I don't imagine so," Ryou agreed softly. "You said you found a passport?"

"Yeah, in your coat," Malik confirmed. "Passport, ticket-stubs from the flights to get here, and a candy-wrapper... They travel light."

"That's easy if you're suicidal," Bakhura snorted. "Or rather, don't care what happens to the body you're in, once you get where you're going."

"We can call the ticket agent and buy a ticket for you today," Ishizu said, probably considering it a reassurance. "They'll probably be discounted this close to the departure date."

"... Don't worry about it. I can buy it," Bakhura said quietly, and tucked some ful into his mouth.

"With what?" Ishizu asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I assume the World Bank has a branch in Cairo?" Bakhura shrugged.

"Of course."

"And is that passport for 'Bakura Ryou'?" he asked, glancing to Malik.

"Yeah, I think it's actually totally legit." Malik nodded.

"Then we have money," Bakhura affirmed, trying to re-skewer a piece of egg that fell off his fork. "I keep a small account with them in Ryou's name. For emergencies."

Ishizu leaned on an elbow, looking curiously at him for a moment and then not quite shrugging and returning to her coffee. Malik tapped his finger on the table, pondering for a moment before he asked, "What's a 'small account'?"

"Six thousand Euros," Bakhura replied without missing a beat and Ishizu choked. She pushed away from the table as she coughed. Rishid offered her a napkin.

"You anticipate expensive emergencies," Malik noted, grinning. Bakhura shrugged. Malik sobered, remembering the matter at hand. "So, today..."

"... I won't kill him," Bakhura said after a pause. "I make no promises about breaking skin or bones," he added, then the voice shifted to Ryou's cadence and became very soft, "He's not allowed to talk to us."

"Okay." Malik nodded.

...

"Bakura-kun!" Anzu shouted, running out into the street when she spotted his bright hair through the crowd. He didn't smile or respond to her except to make eye-contact. Anzu ignored that, she ran right up and hugged him, which did seem to startle him into a response. He took in a surprised breath and backed up one step, his body going rigid.

"A-Anzu," he stammered in a low, nervous voice. "Hello."

"I'm so glad, Bakura-kun! After you fainted yesterday, it was really scary and I'm so glad you're okay!" When she let him go, he moved a little closer to Malik, looking agitated.

"Thank you for taking care of him," Anzu said, bowing deeply to Malik and then Ishizu and Rishid. "We really could never figure out how to help him."

"It's a difficult situation," Ishizu answered with a small nod.

Anzu stepped aside a little as Jonouchi and Honda had walked up to greet Bakura too; Yuugi was hanging back. Anzu sent him a 'get over here!' look and nodded towards Bakura. Yuugi shook his head in

answer and looked at the ground.

"Hey, Bakura! Good to see ya among the conscious and sane!" Jonouchi declared and made to slap Bakura on the shoulder.

Bakura grabbed his wrist out of the air and twisted it. Jonouchi made a startled sound and grimaced in pain briefly before staring at Bakura, wide-eyed. Bakura glared back at him. "No love-taps, Jonouchi. I swear to God, if you hit us, we will put you underground," Bakura said in a low, dangerous voice.

"I... Okay," Jonouchi mumbled, nodding, and kept staring after Bakura had let him go.

"Bakura, are you okay?" Honda asked in an even tone.

"No. We're not," Bakura spat. He curled his shoulders in a bit, putting his hands in his pockets and shifted so his hair covered more of him. "And we _don't_ want your help. Don't bother asking."

"... 'We'," Jonouchi repeated with distaste, wrinkling his nose.

"Yes _we_," Bakura growled, narrowing his eyes and stepping towards Jonouchi, giving him a challenging glare. "I'm not going to pretend for you anymore. I'm not going to play the stooge for your little band of adventurers. I'm sick of listening to the self-righteous bullshit of _that hypocritical bastard!_" He pointed his finger accusingly at Atemu, who was now standing, looking defiant, from where Yuugi had been hanging back.

"Stop." Malik grabbed Bakura's arm and pulled him around. "Look at me. _Look_ at me, Ryou. This is _pointless_. This isn't going to help. Just _stop_ it." Malik firmly gripped Bakura's shoulders and stared him in the eyes as he spoke. "Stop," he whispered.

"... I want them buried."

Anzu actually heard the change in speech-pattern that time. It wasn't just the directness, because Bakura had been quite direct a moment ago, there was a different tone and the rhythm changed.

"What are you talking about?" Malik asked, looking confused.

"The Millennium Items," the other Bakura answered in a strong voice, making sure Atemu could hear it. "They are the blood and bones of _my_ people. I claim burial-rights and I want them _interred!_"

There was quiet for a while, only the sounds of the street activity around them to stave off silence, and then Ishizu finally spoke. "That isn't possible, Bakura."

"_It's my right!_" the other Bakura shouted back at her.

"The Pharaoh is _tied_ to the Millennium Puzzle!" Ishizu insisted, although Anzu was pretty sure the other Bakura was well aware of that fact at the moment.

"He's no _right_ to it! He's a murderer and a corpse-thief who couldn't even wait until they were in the _ground!_"

"_You're_ one to talk!" Atemu snapped. "You dragged my father through the sand for _miles!_"

"I never opened the _box!_" the other Bakura shot back, eyes flashing with rage. "I've never in my _life_ touched a corpse except those of my _own_ people who were _fodder_ for your disgusting little _trinkets!_"

"_I didn't create them!_" Atemu shouted.

"You _used_ them! Even after you _knew_ what they were!" the other Bakura screamed. "You _desecrated_ them! They are the mutilated bodies of _my _ancestors and you've _pissed_ all over their _graves!_"

"I didn't have a _choice! You_ caused the threat and _forced_ me to use them!"

"LIAR!"

"Bakhura!" Malik broke in, grabbing Bakura into a forceful hug. Bakura seemed to panic and struggle for a moment before calming slightly. Malik started talking to him in a different language, ancient Egyptian? Anzu couldn't understand a word of what he was saying, but she heard 'Ryou' several times. His voice grew quieter, murmuring close to Bakura's ear, as the embrace started looking less like Malik was trying to restrain the other boy and more like he was supporting him.

And then Bakura started sobbing loudly, collapsing against Malik and clinging to him. Malik held him and looked up to Ishizu after a moment. "Sister, I'm taking Bakura home," he announced.

"Yes." Ishizu nodded.

Anzu stood, wringing her hands as Malik lead Bakura down the street and out of sight. This was all wrong. This whole situation was _impossible_. How was this ever supposed to be fixed?

"It'll be okay, Anzu," Honda said behind her.

"I don't see how," she mumbled, blinking her eyes quickly.

...

"... That was terrible," one of them whispered, too soft and dejected for Malik to make out which, as they stared at the table. "I can't believe we cried in front of _him_."

"You were well justified for it," Malik replied, putting a cup of mint tea in front of them. "You've been through hell."

"I... I don't want to see any of them again. Ever," Ryou said leaning his head down into his hands. "They're not my friends. They never cared about me. They just wanted me where they could keep tabs on me."

"... I know Anzu cares about you," Malik said, pulling one of the chairs over next to theirs. "I was in her head, remember. And I think it's a fair bet the others do too... Ryou, they didn't _know_. How were they supposed to _get_ it when you were playing it up for them like a soap opera?"

Ryou turned his head a little and looked at Malik through his fringe, a bitter little smile coming to his lips. "I brought it on myself, you mean."

"No- _Ryou_..." Malik clenched his teeth, frustrated. "... You talk about them not trusting you, but you never gave them a _single ounce_ of trust."

"... They wouldn't understand."

"They _couldn't_ understand, Ryou!" Malik caught Ryou's shoulder and pushed at it, making him look up. "_You_ made Bakhura the villain."

They stared at him, hurt showing in every line of Ryou's face. "The Pharaoh was our _enemy_. It's because of _him._"

"Ryou, that put you at odds with them, but it's _you_ playing the kidnapped princess that turned Bakhura into the fire-breathing dragon."

"_Shut up!_ It was _my_ idea!" Bakhura snapped, grabbing Malik's shirt-collar. "What was I supposed to do? Just _make up_ with him? After what he _did_ to me?"

"Bakhura, you were _both pawns!_" Malik snapped. "_Neither_ of you set this shit into motion! You were _both_ in the _wrong_ place at the _wrong_ time and you _both_ got manipulated into ruining each other's lives!"

"You _traitor_," Bakhura whispered, and then shoved Malik back, almost knocking him over in his chair.

"_Stop it!_" Malik half shouted. "Stop making up your own reality! You keep saying _he_ killed your family but he was a God-damned _infant_, Bakhura!" Malik grabbed their face, framing in Ryou's jaw with his hands and forcing eye-contact. "It's what _they_ wanted you to think! _They_ needed you to be in vendetta-mode and when Aknamkanon died, they _couldn't_ let you stop! They _manipulated_ you! They _made_ you ignore any _rational_ part of your mind that should have said 'this isn't the guy I'm mad at' so that they could make you _finish the ceremony!_"

"No no no no," Bakhura chanted, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking. "That's not true. It can't be. I have to- I have to-"

"You fucking _know_ it's true, Bakhura!" Malik shook him. "It was _them!_ It was _always them!_ And you know who made them _answer_ for it? _Pharaoh_ did!"

"SHUT UP!" Bakhura screamed, trying to push Malik and falling backwards over his chair instead. "SHUT UP! STOP IT! TRAITOR!"

Malik moved over and knelt on the floor next to Bakhura as he curled up in a defensive ball and started sobbing again. "Bakhura, you _know_ it was them." He leaned down against Bakhura, putting his arms awkwardly around him. "You _know_. They make you _think_ things, they make you _believe_ things that don't make any sense. I _understand_. They can get you believing shit that is just plain _stupid_. They did it to me too. It's what they _do_. It's what they _are_."

"I-i-ss n-nn-not f-f-f-_fa-air!_"

"I know, baby, I know," Malik whispered. "It's _evil_... but you can't _make_ it fair... Hating Pharaoh can't make it fair..."

Bakhura made a few straining little sounds of stifled sobs through his teeth before letting out a wail and beginning to weep in earnest. Malik dropped his head down, resting it near their throat and staying draped awkwardly over them, his muscles cramping up, until they finally uncurled and rolled over, grabbing him and pulling him closer. They stayed there, lying on the floor, with three thousand years of frustration and anger and pain fueling Bakhura's tears as he clung to Malik.

"Shhhhhh..." Malik breathed, over and over, stroking his hand over Ryou's hair and leaning their foreheads together. "Shhhhh..." His right arm was starting to go numb, pinned between Ryou's body and the linoleum; he ignored it and didn't try to alter their position on the floor. "You are the strongest person I have ever known..." Malik whispered, as the weeping started to get quieter. "To survive what they did to you... It's amazing."

"Sh-shut up," Bakhura mumbled. "I d-don't want- shut up."

"Okay," Malik breathed, stroking his hand over their side. "I just want you to know that I admire you."

"Shut u-up," Bakhura said again, stronger and more irritated. He grabbed Malik behind the shoulder and pulled him in roughly, bringing their mouths together too hard and making Malik wince as his upper lip was jammed against his teeth for a moment. He forgot that quickly enough though, as their mouths slid together and Bakhura deepened the kiss a few seconds later.

He knew it was Bakhura kissing him at first, he used more teeth than Ryou, but by ten minutes in, when it had turned to wanton and breathless necking, it wasn't really possible to tell. It never was at this stage, and Malik kind of thought they lost track too. The first time, the shifts had been obvious, Ryou hesitant but eagerly exploring and Bakhura almost laughing, and sometimes _actually_ laughing out loud. On the dirigible, the night before everything went to shit, they'd been much more synchronized, like now, but not like now; there had been a careless excitement then, now it was needy desperation.

It was a strong indicator of how desperate they were that Ryou wasn't getting anxious about being on the floor or the fact that showers hadn't been had recently enough. They were ignoring all details that weren't immediately relevant and focusing solely on the comfort of sensual contact.

They rolled over, pushing Malik onto his back and attacking his neck, their hands sliding up under his shirt, tracing the shape of his ribs. Malik keened lustily. He'd been wanting this for months; longing for them and throwing temper-tantrums of frustration over not even being able to _talk_ to them, an entire planet and the Pharaoh's spell separating them, _all _of them, from each other. He pulled at the back of their shirt, slowly walking the fabric up Ryou's back with his fingers and pressing his palms against the heated skin he uncovered.

They shifted, getting their knees under them, on either side of Malik, and lifting up to pull their shirt off over their head, then tossing it aside. He was so _pale_, his skin just a little bit translucent, the faintest hint of the colors underneath, blues and reds, not quite visible. Malik started to reach up, but they descended on him again immediately, one hand pulling clumsily at Malik's shirt and the other fanned out over his stomach. Malik squirmed, struggling to get his elbow out of his sleeve while they were pulling his shirt like that.

The combined efforts finally managed to get Malik's shirt off. Ryou's hand planted itself next to Malik's left shoulder and the other slid under the small of his back, lifting him slightly; then Ryou's head went down and they licked a line up Malik's chest from the bottom of his ribs up to his clavicle. Malik arched up into the feeling and started moaning and panting at the same time, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Haah! Haah! Aah! Haah! _Ah ah ah ah!_"

They slid two fingers slowly up over the crotch of Malik's pants. Their mouth moved from his chest to his ear, biting the lobe gently and then murmuring, "Hu-how many times di-hid you think ah-bout us and to-houch yourself?"

"Hah Every G-Goddamned _uh!_ day!" Malik panted.

"Yeah?" They licked around the inner edge of Malik's ear and then caught the top between their lips and sucked, at the same time, they grabbed his crotch firmly.

"_Uhhuhuhhung!_" Malik whimpered, digging his fingernails into Ryou's shoulders. "_Yes!_"

They made a little sigh-like sound that made Malik's heart beat even faster, then kissed his ear-lobe and whispered, "Wha-at do you wan-nt us to d-hu to you?"

"_Bend me over and fuck me 'til I can't walk straight!_" Malik blurted.

They mewled and nuzzled the sensitive space behind his jaw. "Pro-hoblem. I do-hon't have a- I don't- I-" Their panting suddenly began to shift from lusty to panicked and they pushed away slightly. "Oh god! _Oh god!_" it sounded like Ryou's hysterical voice.

"What?" Malik turned his head to look at them and was greeted with a look of terror. "_What?_ What's wrong?"

"Oh _god!_" They pushed themselves up and put their hands over their face, shaking and starting to sob again. "No no no no!" It was definitely Ryou's voice now.

"Ryou!" Malik valiantly pushed down the voice that was demanding '_just shut up and fuck me!_' struggling to sit up, _aching_, and caught Ryou's wrists, trying to pull his hands away from his face. "_What?_ What _is_ it?"

"Hi-hiruta-ni," Ryou sobbed. "H-he wouldn't we-ear a condom a-and he w-was like 'Stupid bitch, d'you th-think you're gonna g-get pregnant or s-something?' a-and I di-didn't- I didn't- I was so _lonely!_" Ryou babbled, hysterical sobs falling out between words. "H-he prob-bobly had _d-diseases!_" he wailed.

Malik stared at him, stunned, blank, what the hell was he supposed to say to that? What was he supposed to do? Ryou was freaking fuck out and Malik had nothing here. What do you _say_ to that? Not saying anything would make it worse, he had to say _something_, what was he supposed to _say?_

"I'm such a WHORE!" Ryou screamed, then he shook his head violently and Bakhura's voice yelled, "_You were raped!_" Ryou wailed and dropped his face back into his hands. "I probably have s-syphilis or _AIDS_ now!"

"Ry-Ryou, _stop!_ You're not a whore!" Malik exclaimed, panicking. "And you don't have AIDS! Stop freaking out! You're _fine!_"

Ryou was hyperventilating and shaking violently, sobbing loud and shamelessly like a terrified child.

"Ryou!" Malik grabbed his shoulders. "Look at me, Ryou! Look! Open your eyes and look at me!" He gave them a shake and when the other teen finally looked back at him, Malik let go of his shoulders and caught his face instead, staring him straight in the eye. "You are _not _sick," he said firmly. "And what's going to happen is you're going to go to the hospital when you get home, they're gonna draw your blood and test it, and they're not gonna find anything in it but blood, and then they're going to call you up and tell you that you're _fine_."

Somehow that did seem to work and Ryou started to calm down. He looked back at Malik, hiccupping several times, his face wet and still scared. "But what if-"

"You're _fine_," Malik said firmly and then he leaned their foreheads together. "You're gonna see. You're just fine."

Ryou continued hiccupping and sniffling for a while. "I'm s-sorry," he whimpered.

"Shhh-sh-sh-sh-shhhh," Malik whispered, rubbing Ryou's shoulders. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry," he whined again. "Y-you wanted to- I- I can't- n-not until I know for sure. I'm s-sorry!"

"It's _okay_. It's okay," Malik assured him. There was quiet for a little while, punctuated by hiccups, as they just knelt there with their foreheads together. As Ryou's breathing calmed down, Malik moved his head, and pressed a soft kiss to Ryou's lips.

Ryou slowly caught his breath, his eyes half-closed and both bright and stormy from crying. Then he looked back up at Malik. Malik smiled softly for him but it dropped into a slightly shocked expression when Ryou said, "I could give you a blow-job."

"Wh-_huh?_" Malik fumbled, part of him saying 'oh God yes yes yes' and the rest of him being a bit too flabbergasted to form a coherent reply.

"You're still hard," Ryou observed, touching Malik's crotch gently, making him shiver. "Even though me crying at you like that probably has to be pretty unsexy." He let out a little one-note laugh.

"I- you don't have to do that," Malik said, feeling incredibly awkward.

"I _want_ to. I want to. Malik. I want to. Please," Ryou babbled quickly.

"I- I-" Malik stammered, he was pretty sure this wasn't the right response to trauma, but his breath was getting fast again and he _wanted_ it so badly. "Y-y-yes-s?"

"Let's move." Ryou grabbed his hands. "We-we're in the kitchen."

"O-okay."

...

"Oh _wooooow!_" Anzu turned a circle, staring at all the dozens and dozens of hanging glass vessels, hovering in the enormous, tiled courtyard. "Ishizu, what _are_ those?"

"Oil lanterns," Ishizu answered, smiling at her. "They've used them to light up the vast spaces like this since long before electric lighting existed."

"Sweet!" Jonouchi exclaimed. "How big a fire would they get going in one of these things?"

"Not... very big..."

"Hey... Yuugi?" Anzu asked quietly as Jonouchi started yammering about fire or something, "Can I talk to you for a bit?"

"Huh?" Yuugi looked up at her with that expression he always had when somebody addressed him, not Atemu, like he was surprised and confused that anyone would want to talk to him. "Y-yeah, sure Anzu! What is it?"

Anzu glanced over at the others, it looked like they'd probably be exploring this courtyard for a while, and caught Yuugi's hand, leading him over to a corner. "Yuugi... is Atemu there right now?" she asked, her eyes flicking over the hanging lanterns and back to Yuugi again.

Yuugi's face changed to an 'oh' kind of expression; he didn't look hurt, he just looked as though he'd figured out a word-scramble and was readying to write down the answer. He smiled at her, "You can talk to him, Anzu. It's really not any trouble, I don't-"

He eeped as Anzu cut him off, dragging him into a tight hug. "Yuugi... do you know how important you are to me?" she whispered near his ear. "You mean a lot to me, Yuugi. I guess I was a little embarrassed to admit it, because it made me feel like such a tomboy, not hanging out with the other girls, but I always felt like you were my very best friend ever since we were kids." Anzu swallowed against a little knot in her throat, feeling intensely awkward. "You're the nicest guy I know, Yuugi, and growing up with you and being friends with you has been so so important to me."

Yuugi was totally frozen and barely even breathing; Anzu found that a little disturbing, so she decided it was probably time to get to the point now. "B-but right now, I'm really worried about everything with Bakura-kun. This whole situation is just really scary and I want to help if I can..."

Yuugi seemed to recover a little at the change of topic. "I- y-yeah, me too," he mumbled.

Anzu let him go slowly and stood back a little, looking at him as she continued, although he wasn't meeting her eyes and his face was red. He was so _cute_ sometimes. Often, actually. "It's just... yesterday I spent, like, three hours talking to Malik about all this, and it really seems like he's had a good perspective on the whole thing..."

"He knew how to fix it..." Yuugi whispered, his face scrunching up a bit. "If I'd listened to him earlier- _no._ You're wrong. You shouldn't have done that-"

"Yuugi,"Anzu broke in, catching his shoulders firmly in her hands and making him glance back up at her with a slightly startled look. "Can I talk to him?"

Yuugi blinked at her for a moment and then nodded, closing his eyes and letting his head drop just slightly. A chill ran down Anzu's spine as she felt a weird _power_ ripple over Yuugi and then his posture straightened and Atemu was looking back at her. "What?" he asked, with a great deal more brusqueness than he usually used when he spoke to her, and his eyes flicked away.

"... Do you know what happened to the other Bakura in Egypt?" she asked. That wasn't quite what she'd been planning on, but she supposed it was a sensible direction to take the conversation in.

Atemu was silent for a few beats before answering. "Only what he claimed when he was ranting like a lunatic in the alter room."

"About how Ku-Kulu-eluna got destroyed?"

"... Yes." Atemu nodded, not looking at her.

Anzu's eyes wandered to the floor for a moment before she prodded herself onward. "Malik said that the Millennium Items… _couldn't_ have been made without- without killing at least a thousand people," she mumbled and then pressed her lips together nervously before glancing back up at Atemu's face.

"... Ma'had said that too..." Atemu whispered very quietly. His eyes flew up to meet Anzu's suddenly and he looked uncharacteristically desperate. "But it wasn't my _fault_, Anzu! I didn't even know-"

"You were a baby." Anzu nodded and Atemu calmed down visibly. "I understand that it wasn't your fault, Atemu, but do you understand that the other Bakura hurts really really badly? We can't even understand how much, and maybe he doesn't even know _how_ to be civil... I feel like... we need to try to be more understanding..." Anzu glanced down for a minute, trying to stitch her thoughts together into a sensible order. "It's just... I mean, it had to be _incredibly_ hard for him and Bakura-kun to even _try_ to meet us today. A-and- he said some terrible things, but... the fact that he was there _at all_- it shows that he's trying _really_ hard."

Atemu nodded slowly, his eyes cast toward the floor. He looked sulky and guilty, thoroughly scolded, and Anzu felt herself smiling softly. She reached forward and hugged him. It was pretty much exactly the same as when she'd hugged Yuugi; Atemu went very still and tense, seeming to hold his breath a little bit. When she backed up again, he was flushed and didn't quite look up at her. Anzu couldn't help laughing, and she watched him get a little more flushed and shift uncomfortably.

She grabbed his hands and put on an encouraging smile as he looked back up at her. "So let's try our best too, okay?"

"Y-yes," Atemu nodded, glancing away again but looking considerably less tense.

"We'd better get back to the others now and make sure that Jonouchi doesn't break something," Anzu suggested.

Atemu smiled a bit and let her pull him back towards the center of the courtyard.

...

...

A/N: I picture Ryou as just a little bit of a germaphobe. Not the keeps-their-money-in-plastic-bags kind of germaphobe, but germs worry him. In general, he's concerned about things like hand railings and buses being insanitary, and incurable diseases scare the ever-loving _shit_ out of him. Note that while syphilis is curable these days, it's still one of those historically really scary ones.

BTW, the place team-Yuugi is in on the last scene there is Sultan Hassan's Mosque. It has some seriously bitchin' architecture and mosaics and fabulous ceramic and glaze work. Oh how I want to do a tour of classical Islamic palaces and Mosques... how many monies do I need... Spain, Persia, Ottoman Empire territory, Arabia and India, North Africa... they're probably a bit too spread out for one trip... I suppose I'll start with Spain, it's technically closest.


	6. Chapter 6

"Mister Wigglesby! Don't go! You mustn't get on that plane!"

"I _have_ to Cindy-Lou-Marie-Beth! I must go and fight... the _Nazis!_"

"But Mister Wigglesby... I'm _pregnant!_"

Malik doubled over laughing and almost fell off the couch. Ryou flailed and slid behind him, having been leaning on Malik's shoulder previous to that. "Ak! That is not the appropriate response, Mister Wigglesby!" Ryou shrieked as he twisted and tried to right himself.

"I thought Mister Wigglesby was her _cousin!_" Malik protested, hugging his arms over his stomach as he laughed.

"Details!" Bakhura snorted, pushing Malik back at the couch cushions and draping over his shoulder again.

Malik laughed again and caught his breath before looking back at the silent television where the man wearing a trilby was talking again. "I'm _sorry,_ Mary-Lou-Vanessa-Gertrude! But cancer isn't just going to cure _itself!_"

"But Mister Wigglesby!" Ryou exclaimed between giggles. "I thought you were fighting _Nazis!_"

"I am!" Malik declared, waving a fist in the air. "I'm fighting Nazis _with cancer!_"

"Waitwaitwaitwaitwait! Is he _using_ cancer to fight the Nazis, or do the Nazis _have_ cancer?"

"BOTH!" Malik shouted.

They both collapsed on each other laughing, and the scene changed before they could finish providing the dialog for it. When their mirth had died down enough for them to notice, Ryou almost fell off the couch trying to push himself up and demanded, "Wait! What happened? Where is he?"

"Um, ah, I-I think it's Paris," Malik guessed, turning his head to look at the screen.

"_We'll always have_ PARIS_ Mister Wigglesby!_" with that declaration, Bakhura dropped down on top of Malik and pulled him into a dramatic -if rather awkward- hug, sending a cushion rolling to the floor.

"_Oh Ginny-Lou-Angus-Regina!_" Malik threw his arms around them.

They dissolved into a puddle of laughter. Before the hysteria had cleared, Malik heard the front door open, and they were still in a tangled, laughing pile when his siblings came through the living room, carrying greasy paper bags that perked his interest.

"What are you watching?" Ishizu asked after a mystified pause.

"Ah- I don't know, some movie. I can't remember what it was called," Malik answered, still laughing a bit.

"Why is the sound off?" Ishizu raised an eyebrow.

"Because it's in French," Ryou explained.

"'Cause it's totally better this way," Malik added as the throw pillow slipped out from behind his head and made him fall a few inches. He start laughing again.

Ishizu just looked at him blankly, before shrugging and holding up one of the greasy bags. "Well, we brought back koshary. Hurry and wash up before it gets cold."

"_Yes!_" Malik cheered. "Does it have meat?"

"It's chicken," Ishizu called back over her shoulder.

"Eeexcellent."

"What's koshary?" Ryou asked, pushing himself back to his knees so Malik could sit up.

"It's, um, it's kinda like spaghetti... Only different? It's good," Malik offered him a shrug.

"'Only different'," Bakhura repeated, rolling his eyes. "You are bad at this."

Malik laughed, and pushed himself off the couch. "Well then, try it and you tell me how to describe it," he challenged and received a grin.

They sat down at the table with Ishizu and Rishid and ate straight out of the take-out boxes. Ishizu was either too exhausted to bother with plates, or she was very comfortable with Ryou's presence. Malik tapped his fork against his lips thoughtfully.

"All right, fine, you win," Bakhura admitted. "It's 'only different' spaghetti."

"_See_, there is no good way to describe it!" Malik said, smirking. "It's just _good!_"

Ryou chuckled and nodded. "It's rich," he noted.

"Compared to Japanese food, yeah." Malik nodded, and then glanced at his siblings, Ishizu was watching Ryou and Rishid was looking very thoughtful, taking a long time chewing and pausing to look at nothing in particular, his fork lightly tapping on the outside of his takeout box. Oh God, was it obvious? Was he being _way_ too cheerful? No no no. It was something else. He was not going to blush. He was not going to blush. "So where did you go today?" he asked and thought his voice sounded a little too rushed and nervous.

"The Hassan Mosque and the Citadel," Ishizu answered but gave the improvised topic little consideration. "You seem to be feeling better now, Bakura," she observed. Oh God, she totally knew.

"Mm." Ryou nodded a little, looking at the table. "I was still very tired this mo- No. Fuck that noise."

Malik glanced up at the voice change. There was a shadow of simmering anger over Ryou's features and his hands had moved to grip the edge of the table.

"No. This does not get dismissed with some 'cranky baby needs a nap' shit," Bakhura said firmly. There was a few moments of silence and Ryou's brow squeezed tighter, as though an inner dialog had started. Malik sighed, it had been nice when they'd had their outside voices confused for the inside ones. Not that he wanted them to regularly be sleep-deprived and half-crazed, but he had liked being part of the conversation. "The time to rest and think though," Ryou said slowly, "did help... put things in order better. Perspective."

"That's good," Ishizu said. "Contemplation and inward reflection is important in times of personal crisis."

Ryou nodded. After a moment, Bakhura spoke again, his voice softer than before. "We could try again," he said. "... Meet them again tomorrow." Ryou's body straightened up, sitting with a prouder posture although his eyes were still on his take-out box. "We're not going to run away like cowards," Bakhura stated.

"... Ryou?" he asked, wondering whether this plan had actually been discussed.

A faint smile ghosted over his lips and he looked up at Malik. "Yeah," he said with a nod. "I agree."

...

"You came back!" Anzu exclaimed, her voice brimming with relief, as she ran out to them like she had the day before. She didn't fling herself on them this time, instead standing at a respectful distance and clasping her hands in front of her as though to help restrain herself. That was a relief. "Bakura-kun, how do you feel?"

_How the hell am I supposed to answer that?_

_You could spit in her face, _Bakhura suggested. _That might get the point across._

Ryou sighed, feeling very tired, though they'd slept almost ten hours last night. He closed their eyes for a moment, shaking their head, and then he looked back at her. "Angry," he said quietly.

"Ah." Anzu's eyes flicked down and she fidgeted. "Th-that's reasonable," she said with a little nod. "And- and, Ba-Bafhura-kun...?*"

Ryou blinked, their mouth opening a tiny bit and then pausing. _I think she's trying to say your name,_ he thought, feeling a bit... lighter at her tackling of the issue, separating but treating the same... _Answer her._

Bakhura startled at the suggestion, a slight anxiety creeping into him. _I don't want to,_ he said.

_Coward,_ Ryou accused.

_Fine!_ Bakhura groused, stung and embarrassed. "Don't strain yourself," he said out loud, his voice a bit below a normal conversational level. "You can call me 'Thief.'"

"Eh?" A worried little frown creased Anzu's brow. "That- that sounds so... I mean..."

_Now see, there's the contempt._ Bakhura tried to shuffle himself to the back of their consciousness.

_Most people don't name themselves 'Criminal'. Explain it to her,_ Ryou prodded.

_I don't __**want**__ to._

_Y'know, she's being pretty ballsy right now._

"... I've been using it a long time," Bakhura ground out, squirming uncomfortably. "It's what people called me, so I made it _mine_."

"O-oh, I see." Anzu nodded, looking thoughtful. "That... that's pretty cool, actually," she said, giving them a shy smile. "That you could do that, I mean. You must be a really brave person."

_That's it. I'm done,_ Bakhura announced, squishing his mind back like he was trying to hide in a corner.

There was a lull that quickly started to evolve into an awkward silence. Malik broke it for them, before it could go too far. "Should we keep going?" he asked, his fingers barely touching the back of their elbow.

Near the door of the hostel, Ishizu was engaging the other cheerleaders, whom were all fidgeting and obviously trying not to look over at them. Bakhura smoldered, reading it as contempt, intentionally ignoring them as an insult. Ryou caressed him, knowing it was because they were dreading this too; they didn't know what to say to him. He didn't know what to say to them, but he knew he needed to say it now.

"Y-yes," he said quietly, nodding and taking a step in their direction. Then another and another. He could hear Malik, Anzu and Rishid following behind him, and that helped push him forward because he knew he couldn't turn back.

Finally he had crossed the bridge of space and stood, right in front of Yuugi. _What now?_ He was thinking it to himself, he knew Bakhura couldn't give him any real suggestions, and Bakhura kept still and quiet at his back, a nervous energy about him, ready and waiting to snap into fight/flight mode in an instant. _Direct. Admit our fuckups. But... I'm not going to apologize._

_Good._

"It was a mistake to play you the way I did. I have to think that if I'd trusted you or if I'd been openly hostile, things wouldn't have gotten as bad as they did," he said and then looked away with a humorless smile. "I'm not a very good con-artist."

"Bakura-kun..." Yuugi mumbled, his expression guilty, and then he looked down at the ground. "... Even if you were only pretending, I really liked being friends with you..."

_This is bullshit._

_It's the way he is. He's the counter-weight to Pharaoh, remember? _Ryou sighed and shook his head. "You were nice," he said softly. "I liked you when I first met you... Before I knew you were hosting the Pharaoh." He leaned back a little, not looking at any of them. "I've considered you an opponent, but I never hated you."

"I see..." Yuugi looked back up with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "... Do you think maybe we could start over fresh?" he asked, fidgeting.

"No," Ryou said without pausing to consider the question.

"Wh-why the hell not?" Jonouchi cut in. Ryou glanced over at him; he looked upset, a mix of confused guilt, like he wasn't sure why he should feel guilty but thought that he probably should, and offense, anger at Ryou's flat refusal.

Bakhura was bristling with fury at Jonouchi's question, that anybody could be that stupid, but Ryou tried to brush it back and keep a calm expression on their face as he looked at Jonouchi. "Can you erase the last three months, Jonouchi?" he asked quietly.

"Eh?" Jonouchi looked taken aback and a different variety of confused, he genuinely didn't see the connection. "What does that- I mean-" he floundered.

"Can you? Because I can't," Ryou could hear his voice becoming almost a growl. "It might have been possible to forget, even up to the end of Battle City, but the things that have happened to us in the last three months, because of what the Pharaoh did to me, you can't make that go away," his voice trailed off into a whisper.

"B-but- You're the ones who tried to blow up the world or something!" Jonouchi protested. "And what that other-you did to Honda! Why-"

"I never did anything to him," Bakhura snapped, coming out of his corner, and looking sharply to Honda. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Honda gave him a surprised look. "I... You possessed me? After I punched you on the cliff?" he sounded unsure of his words.

_What is he talking about?_ Ryou asked.

_Sek jumped to him. He said I had to assemble the alter on my own,_ Bakhura thought back, nodding slowly. "That wasn't me. That was my 'teacher'," he said.

Honda blinked and glanced away, looking slightly embarrassed. "Oh," he said quietly.

"He taught me how to do it. Trained me for three thousand years," Bakhura said slowly looking between Honda, Jonouchi and Yuugi. "And the last three months, we've been cramming. If I didn't study hard enough, I was punished," he hissed. "I didn't _like_ the punishments. Especially when he let Mot dole them out. After a while I got tired of the beatings and violations and I learned to follow orders."

Malik grabbed their hand at the mention of Mot's name and held it a little too tight. Bakhura turned to look at him. Malik's face had screwed up and gotten a little paler, he was chewing on his lip and looking at the ground. "What do you think?" Bakhura asked softly, nudging him. Malik's eyes flicked up to meet there's. "Do you think it's unreasonable, trying to avoid Mot's bad side?"

Malik glanced away, his grip on their hand getting tight enough to cut off circulation. "... It-it knows how to break you..." he whispered. "It won't let you disappoint it. If pretending to be your friend doesn't work... it gets... mean..."

"Huh," Bakhura said quietly, tilting their head. "It never tried to be _my_ friend, but I guess it was working with a much shorter time-limit in my case. Needed to go for the shock treatment." He glanced back to the cheerleaders; they were all staring at Malik now. "Oh," Bakhura whispered at them. "Didn't you know that part?"

There was a pause, and then Yuugi's voice broke it, quiet, almost inaudible above the street noise. "We did," he mumbled. "Me and the other Me. Mai-san told us... after Battle City."

Their eyes snapped to Yuugi and they saw red. Their rage synchronized flawlessly until it was impossible to discern where Ryou ended and Bakhura began. Their hands found Yuugi's shirt-front and lifted him off the ground as they slammed him backwards into a wall. Tunnel vision made everything but Yuugi, _and that bastard_, invisible. They vaguely noticed Yuugi raising his hands, gesturing to stop, but he wasn't looking at them. He wasn't even _looking_ at them!

Their right hand let go of the shirt, pulling back and then pistoning into the side of Yuugi's face. "_Y-y-you knew?_" they whispered, and then grabbed his shirt with both hands again and threw him down on the street. "YOU KNEW?" they screamed. "YOU TORTURED US!" Their leg swung back, Yuugi gave their foot a fearful look, and then they kicked for the ribs.

Yuugi rolled out of the way and they spun to follow him, but it wasn't Yuugi now. "Even _better,_" they growled and lunged forward. The Pharaoh dodged to the side, avoiding their fist.

"Bakura, _stop!_" he shouted. Like they would ever follow an order from _him_. "Bakura, _please listen to me!_"

They spun and followed him, grabbing for something to hold onto so that they could hold him still while they broke a few bones.

"I _apologize!_ I was _wrong!_ Your anger is _justified_ but this is _useless!_"

They froze, staring at him, not quite believing what they'd just heard. "You... 'apologize'?" they whispered, feeling momentarily numb. "You '_apologize'?_" They grabbed and this time they caught him again. "YOU _RAPED_ US AND YOU '_APOLOGIZE'?_" they screamed, dragging him off the ground, his shirt tearing, and threw him.

"Bakhura!" Arms grabbed them from behind. "Ryou! _Stop!_"

It was Malik's voice and they hesitated slightly, having grabbed a wrist with the intent to twist until it broke. "... D-don't," they whispered.

"Please, _please_, you're going to _kill_ him!" Malik whined, not letting go.

"_He deserves more_," they hissed, eyes narrowing.

"Does _Yuugi?_"

They hesitated again, then shook their head to throw it off. "He _watched_ and did _nothing!_ He _let_ him do this to us!"

"He didn't '_let'_ anything!" Malik shouted, desperation edging his voice. "Pharaoh's _killing_ him!"

There was suddenly silence except for the rapid beating of their heart, hammering away inside so loud it was in their ears. They stared at Pharaoh, who was staring at Malik, eyes wide.

_Killing him? He can't b__**kill**__/b his host... _Bakhura's rage suddenly split, panic mixing in. _That's not possible. It can't be._

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jonouchi's voice demanded from somewhere to the left. "What the _hell_ are you talking about?"

"M-M-Malik- th-that's not t-true...? It's- it's not possible...?" Bakhura mumbled, his voice high and terrified. "It's n-not _possible_ to d-_do_ that?"

"You're fine," Malik whispered quickly. "You're stable."

Their knees buckled and they dropped to the ground, relief flooding through Bakhura and Ryou slowly started to unfreeze.

"Malik! _Answer_ me!" They could hear Jonouchi running up behind them and grabbing Malik, shaking him. "What are you _talking_ about? What do you _mean_ Atemu's killing Yuugi?"

"Killing- isn't the right word... More like erasing..." Malik said haltingly.

"Malik, you said it only _might_ happen!" Anzu shouted somewhere nearby.

"Wha- _Anzu_, you _know_ about this shit?"

"Please calm down, Jonouchi," Ishizu's voice cut in. "I can explain the problem, and it won't come to that anyway. Yuugi's soul is not in immediate danger."

"You- you all...?" Jonouchi's voice had changed, horror replacing shock and anger. "You all knew about this...?"

"As I said, it is not an immediate concern. It would take years for the Pharaoh's soul to consume Yuugi's," Ishizu said calmly.

"'_Consume'?_"

"The threat is not-"

"Did _you _know?" Jonouchi's voice was furious again, accusing.

"N-no I- it c-can't..." it was the Pharaoh's voice but it was so small and hesitant -scared- it sounded much closer to Yuugi's.

"SPIT IT OUT!"

"Jou, calm down!" Honda's voice was accompanied by the sounds of a small scuffle. "We gotta figure out what's going on, man! Let Ishizu explain it!"

"While Yuugi's being '_consumed'?_"

"Jou- ek- stop it! We gotta- uff- _listen!_"

"GET OUT OF MY FRIEND!"

The corners of their mouth twitched, remembering a few months ago, when Jonouchi had shouted something of a similar effect at Bakhura. They started to laugh, both of them together, and what started as a soft chuckle grew in volume until their mirth filled the street and Malik was trying to desperately quiet them.

"Hey, hey, calm down," Malik hissed, shaking at their shoulder. "_Not_ a good time!"

"But it's so _funny!_" Bakhura exclaimed. Tears were running down their face unchecked and their head was thrown back in glee. "I _told_ you, didn't I? I _told_ you that bastard _destroys_ everything he _touches!_"

"Stop. Stop," Malik said, getting in front of them, almost in their lap, and pulling them forward, catching their head in his hands and resting his forehead against theirs. "You're hysterical," he told them in a softer voice. "Stop. Shhh."

Their laughter died down to breathless giggles and left them panting and swallowing against a dry throat. "You're not laughing with us, Malik," they whispered.

"Shhh," Malik soothed, moving his arms around their shoulders and loosely embraced them. "You are _freaking_ the fuck out," he said. "You guys need to calm down, okay?"

Their breath slowed and they smiled. They loved how Malik could always tell them apart, or together. Malik was studying their eyes now, trying to decide if this was calm or a lull in the hysteria. "God, we wanna fuck you right now," Bakhura whispered and they couldn't tell, in the shadow of all the hair, if Malik blushed, but he looked a touch embarrassed.

"We've got to move now, okay? We're in the middle of the street and we've got to take this shit-fest somewhere else," Malik told them quietly.

"Mm, can we go somewhere alone?" Ryou mumbled through a little laugh. "Somewhere with a bed?"

"I think you should probably be present for this conversation," Malik said and he was definitely feeling self-conscious now, glancing to the sides as though worried someone would hear. It made Ryou let out another soft laugh. "Come on," Malik whispered, moving back and offering them a hand up.

...

Once they were all sitting in the Ishtar's living room with cups of mint tea for everyone, Ishizu saw fit to start explaining. Atemu was crouching very far back in Yuugi's mind, barely on the edge of his consciousness and Yuugi could tell he wasn't even looking out at the room. But he was listening.

He was silent and his emotions were wrapped tight around him, almost like he was trying to hide them from Yuugi. But there was one Yuugi was picking up that his shadow didn't seem to have much control over, and it was one Yuugi had rarely felt from him. He was scared.

Yuugi was sitting on the couch, with Anzu and Jonouchi flanking him. Honda was sitting on the carpet, leaning against the front of the arm-rest on Jonouchi's side. Rishid was sitting in an armchair off to the side, silent and stoic as ever, and Ishizu had brought a chair from the table over to sit facing the couch. Past her, Bakura had taken up residence on the opposite side of the room from the couch. He was sitting on the floor with his back leaned against the wall, and Malik had settled down next to him.

"This is a difficult matter to explain," Ishizu said quietly and Yuugi's eyes snapped back to her. "I was hoping to avoid it."

"_Avoid _it?" Jonouchi demanded next to him, leaning forward and glaring. "You were going to just _not tell us_ that Yuugi's getting _eaten?_"

"I thought this matter would be settled and over with before it became an issue," Ishizu said, looking evenly back at him. "And it has been. The Pharaoh has finished what he came here to do."

"But Yuugi's still in danger?" Honda asked before Jonouchi could start getting angry again.

"The Pharaoh's soul is still linked with his," Ishizu explained. "So long as there are two souls competing for the same body, the weaker will be at risk."

Weaker. Yuugi nodded slightly, looking down. He was definitely the weaker one. A flair of protesting emotions came from Atemu, before he went back to suppressing himself.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Jonouchi waved his hands. "Hold on. What do you mean _competing?_ It's _Yuugi's_ body! You mean Atemu is _trying_ to take it?"

Yuugi winced as Atemu exploded into panicked, wordless protests.

Jonouchi turned to him sharply and put a hand on Yuugi's arm. "What?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"Mm- just- he got freaked out. He's _not_ trying to, it's..."

"It's involuntary," Ishizu said. "Just as two plants growing from the same pot make no decision to take water from the other, but the stronger plant will kill the weaker, simply by growing larger itself."

"B-but isn't there a way to fix it?" Anzu asked. "Malik said that Bakura-kun and Thief-kun weren't doing that."

Ishizu nodded. "They have hit upon a rare, symbiotic balance," she said. "Their souls are equally weighted, and it seems that they even strengthen each other's individual identities."

Yuugi looked over to where there was a minor, silent struggle going on against the opposite wall, where Bakura seemed to be attempting to pull Malik into his lap and Malik was trying to stay where he was, his face flushed to crimson. Bakura's eyes flicked up, as he was apparently still listening and knew that he was the current subject. Yuugi felt himself flush and looked away, embarrassed.

"Well why can _he_ do that and Yuugi's getting _eaten?_" Jonouchi demanded. Yuugi _really_ wished he'd stop saying that. "The other Bakura's the same thing as Atemu, isn't he?"

"Hm. Not anymore." Yuugi looked back across the room, where the struggle seemed to have paused, to see Bakura looking back at them with a smug grin. "Notice anything missing?" he let go of Malik to brush back his hair dramatically, displaying the vacant space on his chest where the Millennium Ring used to hang. "Nothing in my _hat!_ Nothing up my _sleeve!_ It's _magic_, ladies and gentlemen! Pure _magic!_" he declared, lifting his shirt to show that the Ring wasn't hidden underneath it.

"Yeah, how _did_ you get out of there _anyway?_" Jonouchi asked, giving Bakura a suspicious look.

"I got the better host!" Bakura said, throwing up his arms before casting a malicious grin toward Yuugi, but not _to_ Yuugi. "Just this once, my luck is better than yours, _bitch!_"

"Hey, stop," Malik said quietly, poking Bakura's arm.

Bakura took the opportunity to grab Malik around the waist and drag him, struggling, halfway into his lap. Then he looked back up at them, still grinning. "Y'know, forget all the bullshit. Let me explain it to you in nice, modern, scientific terms," he said.

Ishizu turned to look at him and waited quietly, apparently wanting to hear his explanation.

"It's evolution," Bakura said. "Evolution dictates that every parasite's goal is to become a symbiot. If the parasite kills the host, then the parasite dies with them. Natural selection favors the parasite that _doesn't_ kill its host, the one that can live within its host without causing any damage. Even more, it favors the one that can form a mutually helpful repoire with its host."

He pointed a finger at Yuugi, but again wasn't indicating him. "_You_ are a _parasite_ who has _failed_ to form that bond. Evolution _hates_ you. _I_ am the success. _We_ are the ones who have achieved _synergy!_" Bakura started laughing again, not nearly as loud or out of control as he had been in the street, but it was a mocking, derisive laugh that stung and made Yuugi curl in on himself a little, and he could feel Atemu doing the same.

...

...

*hu/fu is the same letter/sound in Japanese.

Well, Malik has done fucked up my plan. Seriously, this is _not_ where I thought I was taking this fic. I... I am shocked. I was _planning_ on wrapping this thing up with a bow in this chapter and... that didn't happen. Also, Bakhura/Ryou went crazy in a totally different way than I had planned on. I thought there was going to be a lot of angry screaming; the laughing and the vindictive glee _really_ caught me off guard.

So, um, this has really screwed everything up. A lot. Like, I can't give it the neat, gift-wrapped ending I thought I was going to be able to. I... I have absolutely no clue where this is going. So this is a rare occasion (I think I've never done this before, actually) where I am going to ask for some audience participation.

I need a vote. The options are, do I find a solution/way to keep Atemu, or do I send him off through the hell-gate like in the canon? There will be plenty of angst either way. Please note that killing Yuugi is b_**not**_/b on the table here.

Seriously, I'm not even kidding. I need you guys to vote. I just... my plans have been torn asunder. I need some help here. I just totally put this story-line out of my head and didn't even think about it between the first-edit and final-edit. So make a review/comment thing, it can be unsigned if you're shy (but don't be a dick and post multiple times as anon) or whatever.

So vote, does Atemu live or shuffle off?

EDIT: Let it be noted that the ending will probably be about the same length either way and will not diverge from the way this fic and universe have been set up. I have my wily ways of keeping things contextual.


	7. Chapter 7

Malik put a stop to Bakura's laughter by driving an elbow into his stomach, which also had the side-effect of allowing him to free himself. Over on the couch, things were more subdued in the wake of Bakura's taunting. Yuugi was staring blankly at the carpet and Anzu was pulling at the base of her skirt, fraying the edge.

"But- But why is Yuugi's soul so much weaker?" Anzu whined.

"Age factors in," Ishizu said quietly, looking at the girl while she spoke, though Anzu was still staring down at her fingers as they frayed the skirt. "But it can be made a small factor when others are weighed against it. I believe that the Thief King's soul came to Bakura in a deteriorated state, with little sense of identity." She glanced over to Bakura, who coughed and nodded, rubbing his stomach where Malik's elbow had landed.

Ishizu returned her gaze to Yuugi and continued. "Self awareness, a strong sense of identity, knowing oneself, all these are important to defining a soul and they are also put in danger when two souls come into competition with each other."

"Hang on. Atemu didn't have any _memories_ until two days ago," Honda pointed out. "He didn't have _any _sense of identity because he didn't know anything _about_ his identity."

"He didn't have conscious access to his memories," Ishizu said slowly. "But his tacit knowledge was intact, the things one learns and is taught without explicit instruction. His subconscious remembered how he was trained to perceive himself and the world, and so, though he lacked any _specific_ memories as to how he had come to think the way he does, his personality remained well established."

"So then you're saying that Atemu's been gnawing on Yuugi just because he's more confident?" Jonouchi asked, giving the Millennium Puzzle a suspicious glare.

"That's only one factor in many, and the cause and effect could just as easily be switched for each other" Ishizu sighed, shaking her head. "Pharaoh's personality might be rather dominating, whereas Yuugi is unassuming, but that wouldn't necessarily cause an imbalance in and of itself. I believe the primary reason in this case is that the Pharaoh's heka is so far above a normal person's."

"Heka?" Anzu asked, frowning.

"Ki," Bakura supplied, his voice calmer than before, and it sounded like it was Bakura Ryou speaking now. "The natural energies that are in everything, the same as ki or mana."

"Yes," Ishizu agreed, nodding a thanks to the boy; she had forgotten the Japanese word. "And in this case, I am referring to a person's ability to control the natural heka of their surroundings, as well as having particularly strong heka within their own body. Bakura is a good example for comparison." She gestured toward Bakura as she continued to address his school mates. "Bakura has a very high capacity to manipulate naturally occurring heka, but he does not hold an unusual amount within himself. He merely pushes and pulls the heka surrounding him." Ishizu then turned her attention to the Pharaoh. "The Pharaoh, on the other hand, holds uncommon levels of heka within his own body. This was normal for those of Pharaonic heritage."

"The ability to summon the god-cards," Yuugi said suddenly. Ishizu smiled and nodded at him. "Because it couldn't have just been about Millennium Items since Kaiba could do it."

"That's correct," Ishizu agreed. "Kaiba Seto has a strong ability to control natural heka as well, which has mostly manifested in the form of uncanny luck- a very common way for the gift to present itself these days. His belief in an outcome alters and increases the probability of that outcome occurring, which is most easily observed in the winning streaks he is able to maintain against any opponent other than the Pharaoh. He is a skilled tactician, but he is also extremely lucky."

"I _knew_ he was cheating!" Jonouchi growled quietly, looking livid.

"But if it's heka that lets someone use the god-cards, why couldn't Rishid?" Anzu said quietly, looking over to where Rishid had settled himself quietly off to the side, leaving the explanations to Ishizu. "He's a priest-magic-person just like Malik, isn't he?"

"Rishid and I control heka primarily through the use of talisman," Ishizu explained and lightly touched the jasper stone on her forehead. "Using talisman is a skill that can be taught, rather than a natural inclination. Specific talisman are used to direct specific types of heka."

She glanced back toward her brother. A compromise seemed to have been reached, as Bakura had settled to lean against him now and had his head rested on Malik's shoulder. "Malik has been trained to use talisman, but he also has a talent for controlling heka directly. The demon Mot exploited that ability in order to create a bond between them." She watched Malik stiffen slightly at the name, and then relax again as Bakura laced their fingers together.

"So... It's because Atemu has so much heka that he's overpowering Yuugi?" Anzu asked slowly.

"Most likely." Ishizu nodded.

"But... isn't there something that could be done?" Anzu pressed.

"You could bind him," Malik's voice broke in. Ishizu turned to him sharply, Malik was gazing down at the rug, then his eyes flicked up to meet Ishizu's. "You and Rishid made it so Mot couldn't access _its_ heka. Couldn't a modified version of that binding process be used to restrict the Pharaoh's?"

"Malik, this is a very different circumstance. The Pharaoh is not a demon nor is he a malevolent spirit. _Jailing_ him would hardly be an appropriate course of action."

"We could make it weaker, so that it puts a cap on his heka rather than disabling it," Malik insisted. "We could make Yuugi the arbiter."

"That would work?" Anzu asked, sounding excited.

Ishizu looked back at her, frowning. "He is talking about shackling the Pharaoh's soul," she said quietly.

"But it wouldn't be like that because the seal would work on _Yuugi's_ terms," Malik protested.

"Malik, that's not-"

"Ishizu," the Pharaoh's voice broke in; Ishizu quieted and looked back at him. "Strictly in terms of feasibility, would what Malik is talking about be possible?"

Ishizu pressed her lips together and thought about it for a minute. "Almost certainly," she said finally. "At full power, against a hostile entity, the seal we used to protect Malik freezes the spirit's abilities to use heka or exert force over the host's body."

"It can only talk," Malik whispered, and Ishizu nodded without looking at him.

"In theory, we could rewrite the seal to simply restrict your capacity for heka, potentially we could design it so that your accessible heka would always be kept a match to Yuugi's," she said.

The Pharaoh nodded slowly. "I need time to think about this," he said quietly.

"What's to _think_ about?" Jonouchi squawked suddenly. "We are _not_ letting you keep eating Yuugi!"

"Nobody was suggesting anything of the sort, Jonouchi," Ishizu interjected. "The question is to whether the Pharaoh intends to stay with Yuugi or to move on to the next world now that he has finished his work in this one."

Jonouchi turned to her, frowning softly. "... You mean... die?"

"The Pharaoh's existence is not tied to Yuugi's as the Thief King's has become to Bakura's," Ishizu explained quietly. "When Bakura Ryou grows old and dies, both the souls housed within his body will move into the next world together. When Yuugi grows old and dies, the Pharaoh will again be trapped within the Millennium Puzzle. Perhaps for eternity."

All the teenagers on the couch were staring at her now. "The Pharaoh's soul will be allowed to move on only when the spell which bound him into the Millennium Puzzle is brought to a close," Ishizu said calmly. "The ceremony could be done at any time, of course, it would require only that Yuugi remain in possession of all the Millennium Items and that he return to the correct ceremonial location to perform the ritual." Ishizu pursed her lips a moment. "But I am unable to guess how a binding charm placed upon the Pharaoh's soul might effect his ability to complete that ritual."

"... As I said," the Pharaoh murmured. "I will need time to think about the possibilities."

...

Rishid had taken Ryou's classmates to the National Museum, leaving his siblings to look after their house guest(s). The explanations and crowd out of the way, Ishizu turned her attention back to Ryou and Bakhura. "We need to buy a ticket for you to go home," she said calmly, fetching the cordless phone and a directory.

"Right..." Ryou's voice said in a quiet melancholy. "I suppose I have school next week."

Ishizu set the phonebook on the table and started flipping through it. "Do you think you'll be able to arrange it by phone or do we need to go to the bank?" she asked, running a finger down the page.

"I can do it by phone," Bakhura answered. "Assuming somebody there speaks... hm, I suppose English would be the best bet?"

"I doubt you'll find anyone with Japanese," Malik agreed softly, sliding his hand over Ryou's back as they stood up and walked over to where Ishizu had the phonebook open. "I can help you, it's just the financial information you'd have to approve and stuff."

"This is the number," Ishizu said, marking a pencil line on the page.

"Thank you," Ryou mumbled, taking the cordless as she handed it to him and keying in the number. Even though Ryou was able to find someone on the other end who spoke English, neither he nor the ticketing agent could really understand each other's accents and Malik ended up doing most of the talking, only handing the phone off to Ryou so that Bakhura could recite the numbers for his bank account.

It went smoothly enough though, and within twenty minutes, Ryou had a seat reserved for the same flight back to Japan that his classmates would be on. He clicked the end-call button and sat, staring silently down at the phone afterwards, the reality that he was going back probably just truly sinking in.

"Sister," Malik said quietly, glancing to where Ishizu had settled herself on the other side of the table. "What do you plan to do about _Ryou's_ heka?"

Ishizu sighed, leaning forward against her elbows. "He needs instruction." She settled her eyes on Ryou as he lifted his head, tearing his attention away from the silent phone and tuning into the conversation. "I'm sure it would be easy to find a teacher for meditation in Japan, and that will be important, but you should have more a specific education in the proper fielding of your talent." Ishizu folded her arms on the tabletop and gazed down at the wood-pattern. "Hopefully my contacts in Japan will be able to put me into communication with someone who could teach you."

"Sister..." Malik mumbled, staring down at his hands, folded on top of the table. "..._I_ could teach him."

There was a stretch of silence in which Malik didn't look at anyone, keeping his eyes fixed on his hands. After a while, he shored up the courage to continue. "Ishizu, our family's mission is over. I- none of us _have_ to be here anymore. We're _free_..." He slowly lifted his gaze to meet his sister's, feeling even more unnerved by how blank her expression was. "Sister... I _hate_ Egypt," he whispered.

Ishizu stayed silent for more than a minute before replying in a soft, neutral voice, "We cannot have this discussion without Rishid, Malik."

Malik nodded, looking down again.

There was another stretch of silence, and this time Ishizu broke it. "I need to buy groceries," she said quietly.

"Do... you want...?"

"I can manage by myself," Ishizu said, pushing her chair back and standing. "Please look after Bakura's sunburn. The salve should be reapplied soon."

"Yes, Sister," Malik whispered, staring at the table again.

He listened to Ishizu walk out into the hall and collect her shawl, purse and shopping bags. The door opened and then closed and there was quiet again.

"... You'll come with us?" The voice was too quiet and squished to tell whose it was.

Malik lifted his head to finally meet Ryou's eyes, feeling weak and embarrassed. "I _want_ to," he said. "I- I have to convince them... That I can handle it."

"Malik..." they breathed and reached out, catching Malik's hands. Ryou's eyes danced with too many emotions for Malik to sort out. They stood and tugged Malik up and then pulled him into a tight hug.

Malik closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Ryou's shoulders, sighing. "I've never been happier than when I'm with you," he whispered.

There was a short, almost laugh. "It seems like half the time we're with you, we're either torn apart or passed-out," Ryou said, just a touch of humor edging his voice. "But we've liked the rest of it."

Malik combed his fingers through Ryou's hair and buried his face against their neck. "I love you," he said in a tiny, barely audible voice. "Y-you don't have to love me, I haven't earned it. I just... need to tell you."

"... I- neither of us are sure of our emotions right now," Bakhura mumbled. "Too many people have been fucking with them lately."

"I know." Malik nodded. "I don't want to do that. I just want to be with you for a while."

Bakhura chuckled softly. "You should have _been_ with us when we were hyped on adrenaline," he murmured and kissed Malik's ear.

Malik smiled against Ryou's neck. "Maybe I could get you excited again?"

"It's a distinct possibility," Ryou purred.

"Bed?"

"Oh yeah."

...

"This is so weird..." Jonouchi complained in a low voice. "I mean, Rishid's a great guy and all, but I don't think he's said more than _ten_ words since we've been in Egypt!"

"Not everyone can be a motor-mouth like you, Jonouchi," Anzu snorted.

"But he's not saying _anything!_" Jonouchi protested. "I mean, it's all right when Ishizu or Malik is around, but when he's just following us around, not saying anything, it's just _creepy!_ And with Yuugi not talking either..."

"Yeah, it kind of feels more like having a chaperone or a chauffeur than hanging out with a friend," Honda agreed.

"Well maybe if you actually tried to start a _conversation_ with him," Anzu sniffed and then stepped away from the glass case they'd congregated around, looking back and spotting Rishid as he gazed solemnly at a nefer-bead necklace displayed near the wall. She turned and made her way across the floor, hearing Jonouchi whisper her name with a ridiculously urgent tone.

"The guide says that _nefer _means 'beauty'," Anzu said as she came to a stop next to Rishid. "It talks about these necklaces in general, but not all the specific ones the museum has. I guess because there's a lot, it would take too much space."

Rishid nodded slowly. "They were put in a lot of graves," he said.

"Does it say who this one belonged to?" Anzu asked, looking up at him.

"... The wife of a priest from the twenty-first dynasty," Rishid answered, reading the Arabic on the informational plaque next to it in the case. "But she probably never wore it in life."

"Ah..." Anzu gazed at the different colored beads woven together into the large piece of jewelry that was almost a garment. "Did they usually put new things into the graves? Ones that hadn't been used?"

"It would have been different depending on the time period and the class the deceased was from," Rishid explained.

"Did you and Malik and Ishizu wear that sort of thing ever?" Anzu wondered, trying to picture it in her mind.

"No," Rishid said, shaking his head slightly. "There wasn't any use for decoration in the sanctuary... The priests, and everyone, just wore plain linen."

"There were other priests?" Anzu asked, surprised.

"There were four others, besides Malik's father."

"What happened to them?"

Rishid sighed, looking a little pained.

"Ah-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be nosey. Forget I asked," Anzu said quickly, waving her hand dismissively.

"Malik drove them into madness with the Millennium Rod and chased them away." Rishid's gaze was distant, a detached sort of sadness wrinkling his brow just slightly. "I don't know whether it was permanent or if they'll recover. I don't even know where any of them are now."

"... I'm sorry..." Anzu whispered.

"I'm grateful to you and your friends," Rishid said and Anzu looked up at him with a bit of surprise. "And the Pharaoh. For freeing Malik... I could only keep the demon from controlling Malik's body, I couldn't stop it from influencing his mind."

Anzu was silent for a while. "I keep wondering... trying to understand what the demons could have said to them, made them believe, to manipulate them like that... Because it doesn't seem like they were hypnotized, more like they were just... crazy..."

"... That they were alone."

Anzu frowned softly. "What?"

"They demons started by convincing them that they were alone, that the demon was the only one they could depend upon," Rishid elaborated.

"But... Malik always had you and Ishizu with him, didn't he?" Anzu looked back up at him.

"I was always by his side..." Rishid's voice was soft and distant. "Except during the endowment ceremony... Neither Ishizu or I were allowed to be there."

"Endowment?"

"... His back," Rishid said.

"Oh..." Anzu whispered. "That must have been terrifying."

Rishid just nodded. Anzu looked down, her eyebrows drawn together and her hands fisted tightly at her sides. She felt a little sick to her stomach at the horrible unfairness of it all. She was startled out of her brooding when Rishid started speaking again, unprompted.

"Yesterday..." he started softly, "I heard him laugh..."

...

The weather was really hot, even though it was October -and the Ishtar's didn't seem to believe in air-conditioning- but it was a dry-heat and infinitely more comfortable than the thick, muggy air of a summer afternoon in Domino. The heat could be ignored here, and didn't repel them away from the burning warmth of another body pressed against theirs.

_Did he have tan-lines during Battle City?_ Ryou wondered with a silly giddiness as they pulled off Malik's top and leaned forward to nip at his neck while running their hands over his ribs.

_No. He's turned into a surface-dweller over the summer,_ Bakhura agreed as they sucked the soft spot behind the corner of Malik's jaw.

"What are you thinking?" Malik whispered, his voice coming out a little whiney and his brows were squished in towards the middle when they pulled away to look at his face.

"Tan-lines," Ryou chirped with a tiny smirk.

"Tan-lines?" Malik asked, looking confused.

"Tan-lines," Ryou agreed and tackled him down onto the mattress. "You got a ta~an," he sang and then licked Malik's neck.

Malik laughed in the way that meant he was being tickled, and it was delicious, so they softly nibbled at his neck some more with just their lips, and were rewarded with more giggles and squirming. _He hates being out of the conversation_, Ryou noted, feeling slightly guilty and trying to make up for it with a long, deep kiss.

_If we said everything out loud, it would keep our mouth from better things,_ Bakhura pointed out logically. _Compromise is key._

"Nn, it's true..." Ryou mumbled as their lips came away from Malik's and moved to his ear. "Talking gets in the way..." Their tongue traced the curve of Malik's ear and they squirmed to get into a better position to grind their hips together with Malik's.

"Mmn_hnn_..." Malik moaned, his arms tightening around them. "I- I want to kn-know..." he panted.

"R-right now," Bakhura whispered next to his ear. "We're just ba-babbling about how f-fuckin' _hot_ you are."

Malik mewled and buried a hand in their hair. "I l-love your voices," he mumbled, lifting his knees and squeezing his thighs around their hips.

"'S really not poetry," Bakhura assured him, moving a hand to slide up one of the thighs now constricting him. "God _damn_, you have an amazing ass!" Ryou swore, squeezing Malik's buttock and getting a moan that turned into a laugh in response.

"Mnn- It could feel a lot _more_ amazing," Malik whined, fingers exploring Ryou's chest and sides.

A surge of lust was caught up short in them as they remembered why that hadn't happened yesterday. "I- I need to..." Ryou mumbled, feeling a slight tremor run through their body.

"You don't have anything. I _promise_ you don't," Malik whispered, sounding desperate. "Even if you did -which you _don't_- I don't care because this isn't some one-time _thing!_ I want to be with you forever and I don't want to be _careful_, I just want you to fuck me and not hold back or play it safe or any of that." He stared into their eyes, pleading, horny, as he rambled. "I _want_ you! I want you to _fuck_ _me!_ I want you to _cum in me!_"

"Malik I- I'm not _comfortable_ with it!" Ryou protested, shaking their head. _God, he wants it so __**bad**__! And __**we**__ want it! And if it weren't for Hirutani- If I'd just-_

_It's not your fault_, Bakhura snapped.

_I just can't believe I'm so __**pathetic**__!_

_It's __**not**__ your fault!_

"_No_nononononono," Malik babbled, flinging his arms around their shoulders again and pulling them in tight. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! _God_, I'm being such a _dick!_" There was a slightly hysterical edge to Malik's voice as he shook his head, cheek brushing against theirs. "I'm sorry! Forget it! I'm just being dumb! Please, please, frot with me or something?"

They trembled and sank down against Malik, arms circling around him as they let their weight settle on top of him. "W-why are you freaking out?" Bakhura whispered next to Malik's neck.

"It's stupid," Malik muttered, shaking his head.

"What?"

"I- I'm scared that I'll never see you again," Malik whispered in a tiny voice.

"You're coming _with_ us!" Bakhura protested, even as Ryou jabbed him with scolding feelings to not pressure Malik.

"I w-want to..." Malik whimpered, shaking. "B-but what if I can't? What if when I can finally see you, you don't want me anymore?"

"Malik..." Ryou pressed their face against Malik's neck and tightened their arms around him.

"You shouldn't want me _now!_ Not after everything I've _done_ to you! It was all _my_ fault in the _first_ place, and I didn't _fix_ it! I didn't even do what I _could_ have! I didn't even hardly _talk_ to you because I was too busy feeling sorry for _myself!_" Malik sobbed. "You should _blame_ me! You should _hate_ me!"

"_You_ should shut up and stop telling us what to _do!_" Bakhura snapped in a vicious tone.

Malik's grip around their shoulders loosened and he radiated uncertainty. "I- I'm sorry," Malik whispered.

"... You stole from us," Bakhura said quietly, right next to Malik's ear. "But _you_ didn't fuck with our head." Malik sobbed again and nodded. "You're the one who made Yuugi break it," Ryou said. "He was rambling about you before... before I woke up."

"I should have been with you," Malik whined softly. "I shouldn't have trusted them to take care of you, I _knew_ they didn't know how..."

"We need you," Bakhura and Ryou said together. "Forget before," Bakhura said. "We need you _now_," Ryou continued. "We can't go back there and face them if we don't have _you_ backing us."

Another tremor ran through Malik's body and he whimpered, "... I love you."

"So stop _ruining_ it and take your _pants_ off," Bakhura suggested sardonically.

Malik laughed and it sounded like tension disappearing down a drain. Their mouths came together again and they resumed making out, trying to get back to where they were before, only without the hysterics. Bakhura jerked their weight to the left and dragged their body and Malik's onto their sides, freeing their arms from the task of supporting their weight so that they could shift their focus to dismantling Malik's belt-buckle.

...

...

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long, there were technical issues and also some life issues. I... can't think of much to say in the note here... I don't seem to have written anything before and now I've just finished up the third edit and find myself too tired to write a good author's note. Damn. Well, anyway, let's declare the polls closed, I've decided what I'm doing with Atemu, but y'all are just going to have to wait another chapter or two and see about it. Please review, I do so love to hear from you.

PS: I rewrote _Making Choices and Taking Chances_, it is now going by the title of _Delusions _and on FFnet has just replaced the original and on livejournal got its own post so the original can still be found hiding away.


	8. Chapter 8

Malik was running the food-processor when Ishizu returned home, and by the color she guessed that it was ful. Bakura was standing next to him at the counter, stuffing rice into peppers. They were snickering about something as Malik glanced over his shoulder and gave his sister a grin. He was flushed, she noticed, and then pushed that information into the not-her-concern folder.

"Sister, did you get lamb?" Malik asked, his voice a bit brighter than his usual bright.

"I did," Ishizu said returning her brother's smile and walking to the counter to set down her bags. "I was thinking we could grill tonight."

"Kebabs?" Malik chirped.

"If you like." Ishizu nodded, pulling a container of eggs out of one bag.

"Ryou's never had lamb before!" Malik chattered, scraping ful out of the food-processor with a spatula. "He's eaten cuttlefish and urchin and every weird ocean invertebrate you can think of but he's never had plain old mutton or lamb!"

"Really?" Ishizu murmured with a soft smile, putting away one loaf of bread and setting another on the counter to go along with lunch. "Do they not eat mutton in Japan?"

"Mm, not really..." Bakura shrugged. "I eat beef and pork and chicken and stuff pretty regularly, and I knew that people _do_ eat sheep, but I just can't really think of any kind of food that uses it. I don't know if I'd even be able to find it at a regular store."

"You'll like lamb. It's really tender and succulent and totally different than beef or pork," Malik rambled cheerfully. "Do you know what a kebab is? I know that one's been picked up by Western cuisine a bit, but I don't think it's the kind of thing you'd find at the 'American' restaurants in Japan. It's when you roast meat and veggies and things on a stick so they cook fast and the flavors mix together and it's tasty and easy and stuff."

"I've had roast chicken on a stick," Bakura replied, handing Malik the plate of peppers he'd finished stuffing. "That's like, dare-food."

Malik gave him a puzzled look. "Why is it dare-food? What's weird about chicken?"

"You eat the whole thing," Bakura answered with a little grin. "They cut it into pieces to go on the sticks, but you eat _all_ of the pieces. Guts and everything."

Malik wrinkled his nose. "Like... the intestines and colon too...?"

"Yep. Whole thing," Bakura agreed, laughing at Malik's expression.

"Well, I'm afraid we're only going to be eating halal parts of the lamb," Ishizu chuckled, putting away the last of the groceries and getting out a knife to slice the bread. "They are rather larger than chickens, after all."

"Do you know what time Rishid is coming home, Sister?" Malik asked, arranging the peppers on a jelly-roll pan and putting them into the oven.

"The museum closes at five. He'll probably take your friends back to the hostel after that. He said he'd be eating with us tonight," Ishizu answered.

"Good," Malik said with a little nod and turned to lean against the counter.

...

At twilight, Malik had pulled Bakura down to the strip of garden in front of the small apartment complex to watch late-season fireflies. Ishizu was at the counter loading up kebabs when the heard the front door open and shut quietly. "Rishid?" she asked, looking up from her work, a moment before her elder brother came around the corner. She smiled at him. "How did things go today?"

"Fine," Rishid answered with a little nod. "And here?"

"Bakura's flight is booked," Ishizu said, picking up a mushroom and sliding it onto a skewer. "Did you see them in the garden?"

"Yes. They're throwing a glowing ball," Rishid noted. "What do you need done here? Have you already made ful?"

"Are they? How cute," Ishizu said with a little smile before pausing to think for a moment. "Malik made a lot earlier. You can start cooking the kebabs I've finished." She listened to Rishid move over to the stove and start the grill. A few minutes passed in silence as Rishid picked the ready kebabs off the plate next to Ishizu and set them on the grill. Finally she spoke again. "Malik made a suggestion today," she said quietly. Rishid made no audible response, though Ishizu knew she had his attention. "He wants to go to Japan to teach Bakura how to manage his heka."

There as another short silence before Rishid asked, "What did you say?"

"I said that we couldn't have that discussion without you," Ishizu answered softly.

"I see," Rishid said. "... I suppose we'll talk about it after dinner?"

"That would be best, I'm sure." Ishizu nodded, watching her hands as she finished setting up the last kebab. "... What do you think about the idea?" she asked after another long pause.

Rishid was silent for a while before answering in a slow, careful voice. "Yesterday was the first time I'd heard him laugh honestly in six years."

Ishizu stared down at the skewered but raw kebabs in front of her. "... Should we let him go alone?"

"He wouldn't be alone."

"I realize that," Ishizu muttered. "But do you think he's mature enough to live without supervision?"

"... He could be responsible enough. I think perhaps the rest is a decision for him to make."

...

"Anzu," Atemu's voice called quietly as they were ascending the steps back to the hostel after dinner. "May I speak with you?"

"Of course," Anzu answered, hanging back as Jonouchi and Honda continued up the steps, arguing about something stupid. A moment later, Anzu and Atemu were alone in front of the building, the sounds of the evening city softly blanketing them. "What is it?" Anzu asked.

"You have been a great friend to me, Anzu," Atemu said quietly, not quiet looking at her. "... I've decided I wish to end the spell binding my existence to the Millennium Puzzle."

"... Oh," Anzu whispered, her stomach sinking. "N-now?"

"I'll discuss it with Ishizu tomorrow. I'm not sure how long the ritual will take, and your flight is in three days," Atemu said.

"B-but- don't worry about _that!_ This isn't the kind of thing you can just rush into! You should take more _time!_ We can do it like Ishizu said come back later to finish the spell!"

"Anzu," Atemu's voice dipped lower. "The method Ishizu was talking about, for binding my heka, it's a demon-protection spell. To protect Yuugi from _me_." He looked at her seriously. "I'd like to believe that I'm not a demon, Anzu. And I don't want to become one."

Anzu blinked quickly. "I- I'm sorry. I'm being selfish," she whispered.

"Please- don't," Atemu said, catching her hands and squeezing them. "The truth is, I wouldn't mind staying in this world a little longer, I never did have the opportunity to grow up... But the stakes are too high for it. I'm not going to gamble with Yuugi's soul. Or mine."

A sob managed to break free from Anzu's lips before she'd noticed it was coming, and she nodded, feeling tears on her cheeks. "I understand," she said softly. "It- it still makes me sad, though."

Atemu smiled at her, though his eyebrows were drawn together. "You're such a strong, brave girl, Anzu," he said quietly. "I will look forward to the time we see each other again, aboard the solar ark with the gods and all those we have loved."

A little smile tugged at Anzu's lips as she nodded again, sniffling. Then she launched herself forward and threw her arms tightly around Atemu.

...

"I'm sure you realize you wouldn't be able to go right away," Ishizu said suddenly as she started picking up plates to carry to the sink.

"What?" Malik asked, confused by the nonsequitur.

"To Japan. You would need to get a visa for an extended stay," Ishizu explained, sounding utterly casual. "That would take some time."

"I- I know. How long do you- are you saying I can go?" Malik stammered, glancing back and forth between his siblings.

There was a short pause. "Do you wish to go alone?" Rishid asked, looking seriously at Malik from across the table.

"I..." Malik's throat went dry as he stared at his brother. "... I do..." he choked softly. "It- it's not- it's just that... it's never been possible before... I thought that I was going to be on a leash my entire life, and now..."

"I understand." Rishid nodded.

"We can help you apply for a visa, after we've seen your friends off," Ishizu said quietly, gathering the used silverware on top of one plate. "It'll take a little while to be processed. You probably won't be leaving for at least a month."

"Y-yes," Malik whispered, staring down at the table and then slowly turning to look at the duet sitting next to him. Warm, chocolate eyes stared back into his, dark with emotion. Malik blinked quickly and felt fingers curling around his left hand. He squeezed back.

...

_... I'm done_, Atemu called inwardly, sliding the deck he'd selected into his left coat-pocket. He could feel Yuugi's in the right. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat.

Atemu gave the great, open space that used to be a massive labyrinth little notice as he went to the door and made his way over to Yuugi's mind. Yuugi was settled in a plump beanbag, idly fiddling with a gundam model, when Atemu entered the cozy space. Yuugi didn't look up, he just stared blankly at the miniature mech and fussed with its shoulder-joint.

"Yuugi," Atemu said quietly. "I'm done."

"... Okay," Yuugi said, nodding and still examining his gundam.

Atemu sighed softly and walked over. He dropped down into the beanbag next to Yuugi and wrapped his arms around his other half. "I'm sorry, Yuugi," he whispered.

"N-no, that's- There's no- You don't need to be sorry," Yuugi mumbled, leaning against him and letting his gundam tumble to the floor. "... Do you _have_ to go?"

"I'm the last one left, Yuugi," Atemu said quietly, leaning his cheek against the crown of Yuugi's head. "Maha'ad has finally moved on, and the Blue-Eyes girl... I'm the only ghost still clinging to this world."

"W-what about the other Bakura?"

"He's different," Atemu said, shaking his head. "He was never exactly killed, he was... consumed. Besides, I think what's there now is less the Thief King and more what Bakura-kun raised from the ashes."

Yuugi was silent for several seconds before speaking in a low, congested voice. "... If I could do magic like Bakura-kun..."

"Yuugi, shhhh..." Atemu hugged him a bit tighter. "... I want to go with Maha'ad, Yuugi. And Mana, and my father... and I'm afraid of myself, Yuugi. I'm afraid of becoming a demon... I feel like the longer I'm part of the Millennium Puzzle, the less human I become." Atemu caught the imaginary Millennium Puzzle that hung around his neck inside the contrived space and looked down at it. "I- I told you how Aknadin made these," he whispered. "This thing is evil, Yuugi. Neither of us should be near it."

"B-but it's powerless now, isn't it?" Yuugi whined.

"That kind of blood can't be washed away, Yuugi." Atemu shook his head. "Apep may be gone, but the Millennium Items will always be cursed objects. I need you to promise me something, Yuugi," he said in a softer voice. "... After I've gone, will you make sure all of them are buried, like Bakhura said? Make sure they're somewhere that no one will ever find them."

Yuugi nodded slowly, hiccupping.

...

The cliffs were disappearing into the distance, the crumbled entrance to the alter chamber had been indiscernible for a while, and now all of the physical evidence that any of it had happened was out of reach and buried by stone and sand. "I- I guess he did it himself," Yuugi whispered softly.

Beside him, where they stood, leaning against the railing at the aft of the ship, Bakura turned slightly, maybe looking at him, but Yuugi didn't take his eyes off the cliffs that were slowly fading into the horizon. "Did what?" Bakura asked, and Yuugi couldn't tell which one it was.

"Buried the Millennium Items," Yuugi answered, feeling the wind bite at the wet places on his cheeks. "H-he asked me to make sure they were buried, like you wanted, so nobody could find them again."

Bakura was silent for a while and then asked, his voice still quiet and impossible to identify which personality it was coming from, "How do you feel?"

Yuugi felt new tears rim his eyes and they broke away, to trail down his face, when he blinked. "... Like I can breath..." he whispered, feeling a stab of guilt at his own words. "Like I couldn't before and I didn't even know it..."

He barely heard Bakura sigh next to him, and in Yuugi's peripheral vision, he leaned forward, putting his weight on the rail. "... You know when you're sick for a while, and then the first day you're well again, you feel extra good?" Yuugi watched the last traces of the cliffs disappear as he spoke. "It's like that... Except right now, I'd rather still be sick..."

"... You're a better person without him, Yuugi," Bakura said. "You make better decisions than him..."

"He wasn't a bad person..." Yuugi rubbed the heel of his hand across his face. "He just didn't know how to compromise."

"... I know," Bakura's voice was barely audible over the muffled sound of the engine and the splashing of the water. "If one were to take his accomplishments at face-value, he freed both Malik and me from a nightmare," he whispered, and Yuugi realized that it must be the other Bakura talking. "Unfortunately he shoved us through the eye of hell to accomplish it. I can't say that anything he did to me himself was more than I deserved, but what he did to Ryou _was_. It was my fault, but it was his crime."

"I know," Yuugi whispered, finally tearing his eyes from the horizon, where the cliffs were no longer visible, to stare down at the churning wake behind the boat. "... Are you both there?"

"... Ryou's asleep. He naps when he's upset," the other Bakura murmured.

Yuugi watched the froth skate across the water of the Nile, dark with the oncoming twilight. "... Why are you comforting me?" he asked finally. "Don't you hate me?"

The other Bakura was silent again for a while before answering. "I hate _him_." His finger tapped idly on the railing. "You tried to take care of Ryou, even though _he_ kept dragging you away, treating Ryou like a diseased limb, _you_ kept showing up." The other Bakura made a half-hearted almost-laugh. "You know, he almost threw himself at you. Before you woke him up."

Yuugi felt his face suddenly growing warm. "H-he did?" he mumbled stupidly, glancing up at the other Bakura.

"That might have been preferable," the other Bakura sighed, shaking his head. "With you, he could have at least gotten some closure... As it is, they're all just going to be a twisted series of date-rapes..."

Date-rapes? Yuugi frowned softly, confused. Hadn't Bakura been willing, at the time anyway? Was Hirutani not the only one that had hit him? "I... I don't understand," he mumbled.

The other Bakura looked down at him, seeming to read Yuugi. "He was more or less half-conscious for all of it. The bastard gave him a roofie that lasted three months and then passed him around the room."

Yuugi felt like his stomach had suddenly been filled with ice. "... Oh..." he whispered softly.

The other Bakura turned to look off into the horizon, giving Yuugi a profile view of his face, and Yuugi could see a rim of tears clinging to his eyes in the dying light. "... Ryou knows how to fix me," the other Bakura whispered, his voice now sounding just slightly choked. "But I don't know how to fix him..."

"... I'm sorry," Yuugi breathed, looking down at his hands as they gripped the rail.

"Malik and me'll try to figure it out," the other Bakura said quietly, blinking rapidly and dipping his head a little. "I'd appreciate any help you can think of."

"I... I don't know what I can do, but I'll try..." Yuugi mumbled helplessly.

The other Bakura thumped his shoulder softly before turning. "He always liked you," he said in a casual voice as he started to walk away.

Yuugi stayed where he was, watching the other Bakura make his way up the boat. He paused next to one of the cabin doors and it looked like he was talking to someone. He stepped inside and a moment later Anzu came out through the door and walked swayingly down to Yuugi.

Anzu's eyes were red and irritated and she looked miserable, but she tried to give Yuugi a smile. "How are you?" she asked.

"... Fine... Physically or metaphysically or whatever..." Yuugi said softly, looking away. "I... I didn't notice that I wasn't before... I guess it came on really slowly..."

"So your... your heka is doing what it's supposed to?" Anzu leaned against the railing next to him.

"I guess so..." Yuugi nodded and turned a little to look down at the dark, churning water again. "My body feels relieved... and even parts of my mind... But it's lonely..."

He started just slightly when Anzu's arms wrapped around him and he found himself pulled against her. Heat started rushing to his face again and he bit his lip, feeling some strange version of terrified as he noticed that his shoulder was pressed against Anzu's breasts. "We're all going to be here for you, Yuugi," she said quietly. "If you need help, just ask."

Yuugi closed his eyes and sighed. "I wish we'd been there for Bakura-kun more..." he said softly. "I keep thinking of things I should have done..."

Anzu was quiet for a while, then the hand resting on Yuugi's shoulder squeezed a little. "It's all going to be okay. Did you hear that Malik is coming to Japan?"

"No..." Yuugi opened his eyes stared out at the darkening landscape. "That's... that's great..." he mumbled.

"We're all going to get through this whole thing," Anzu said, sounding confident. "We'll all be okay."

"Thanks, Anzu," Yuugi murmured. Everything always sounded true when she said it.

...

"We're going to go to the embassy right after this," Malik said quietly, his hands linked with theirs and foreheads leaned together. "I'll apply for a visa today and then as soon as it's processed, I'll be on the next plane to Tokyo International," he promised.

"If you need to ship anything, I can cover it," Bakhura whispered back.

"I don't really have must stuff. Just my clothes," Malik replied with a shrug and a lop-sided grin.

"Oh like a queen like you could possibly get all that into a carry-on," Bakhura snorted. Malik made to punch them and they all laughed, breaking apart for a moment before they grabbed Malik's hands and pulled him back towards them. "What about your bike?" Ryou asked, grinning slyly.

"It's a bitch to ship. I'm thinking maybe I'll sell it and then start looking at two-seaters when I get there...?" Malik raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Get a blue one," Ryou demanded playfully.

"Vetoed. It must be red," Malik said, making a stern face.

Bakhura stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry. They started laughing again. After a moment, Malik grabbed them into a fierce hug. "... You need to go," he whispered.

"... Yeah." Bakhura nodded as they hugged back. "I s-suppose public gay make-outs would probably be a faux p-pas here," Ryou mumbled, sniffling a little.

"Probably a good bet," Malik agreed.

"Okay," Ryou whispered, nodding, and after lingering a few more sweet moments, they stepped back. They stared into Malik's violet eyes as the line nudged them closer to the security check.

"I'll be there soon," Malik whispered.

"We'll be waiting," Bakhura and Ryou said together.

"... Call me when you touch down."

"We will."

They turned slowly and followed Ryou's classmates through the metal detectors. They looked back over their shoulder to the Ishtars, who couldn't go past the security check since they didn't have boarding passes. A few minutes later, they were on the concourse, following along behind the cheer-squad on their way to the international gates.

_... I'm tired_, Ryou complained softly.

_Take a nap. I'll make sure we get on the plane_, Bakhura responded, caressing him.

_... It would be terrible if we missed the flight, wouldn't it_, Ryou said, not meaning a word.

Bakhura sighed, following along in the path that Honda was cutting through the crowd. _Go to sleep, Ryou. I'll watch over you._

_Thank you_, Ryou responded in a tiny flicker, and then Bakhura felt him settling down for a nap.

Bakhura monitored the wane of Ryou's consciousness raptly, following the back of Honda's jacked on cruise-control. When they stopped in front of one of the gates, Bakhura was slightly startled at having the rhythm interrupted and took a few moments to reorient himself. He shook his head and glanced towards the huge windows in the side of the terminal, looking out onto the taxiways.

He stood still for several minutes, staring out the windows. Their plane wasn't at the gate yet. They could have stayed on the other side of security check with Malik for another ten minutes or so. If only.

"You look like someone ran over your dog."

Bakhura glanced over at Jonouchi, who had his backpack slung over one shoulder and was giving him a slightly assessing sort of look. Bakhura was quiet for a moment and then cocked his head to the side a bit. "I think last week Yuugi mentioned something about you beating Hirutani within an inch of his life?"

Jonouchi blinked, looking surprised for half a second, and then his face split into an epic shit-eating grin. "Oh hell yeah, I did!" he declared proudly. "I used a _bat!_"

"A bat?" Bakhura repeated with interest and felt the corners of his own lips starting to pull upwards. "Wooden or aluminum?"

"Aluminum, of course!" Jonouchi crossed his arms and looked utterly smug with himself.

"Good man," Bakhura felt himself grinning fully now.

"You're the other one, aren't you?"Jonouchi asked, looking Bakhura up and down as though he'd somehow find a physical difference to judge by.

"Is it obvious?" Bakhura asked with slight sarcasm.

"Well, it'd have to be for _me_ to notice, right?" Jonouchi shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "Hey, Honda's gone soft on me. Want me to give you a call if I have any more beat-downs that need doing in the future?"

"Aw, you sweet-talker," Bakhura chuckled. "Are you asking me on a carnage-date?"

Jonouchi looked suddenly alarmed. "Wait, what? No I- What?"

Bakhura laughed and clapped Jonouchi on the shoulder. He sighed and glanced out the windows again as a plane taxied towards their gate. "... I think I can do this," he said in a soft voice. "I think we can make this happen."

Because Ryou did have a sort of support network, even if it wasn't the most reliable in the world, and whether it was out of guilt or affection, they seemed willing to help. Bakhura didn't have a reason left not to let them, and even if Ryou was all _he _really needed, Bakhura knew he was probably too far gone to fix the tiny fractures Ryou's soul had acquired in their separation. Malik would be there to help him soon, and until then maybe he and the cheerleaders would be able to handle it.

...

End

...

...

Now it's time for confetti and a giant song and dance number, because I'm done. I'M DONE!

Yee gads, that's a huge weight off my brain.

When I say 'done', there may be more bits and pieces for this universe down the line, but this is officially the end of the central story. This bitch is wrapped and sent. I am free of the oppressive task of trying to ignore new bunnies while old bunnies molder unfinished. For now anyway. New serials on the horizon, who's to say how long they'll end up.

Anyway, a few chapters back I mentioned something about doing a question-answer portion at the end of this fic. That has been upgraded. A 'chapter' will be posted some time after this one with answers to reviewer questions as well as some deleted-scenes and plot-points. Valid questions can relate to any fic in the Serpentine series. So, if you have something to ask in a publicy way, ask them now, because I'm inclined to get this thing buttoned up fast.

3


	9. Deleted Stuff

So, I actually got almost no questions for this series that weren't answered in latter chapters than the one they were originally posted on. So I guess we're not going to have question-answer time so much as a run-down of deleted scenes and un-pursued ideas. First you get answers to the two kind-of questions I have gotten:

**What happened to Hirutani** after he had the misfortune of meeting Mot? Well, when Ryou and Bakhura get home, and after they've rested a bit from the flight, they're going to notice some little flecks and smears of blood here and there in the living room. Bakhura ends up getting the carpet quietly replaced and they don't tell anybody about it. Now here's how I see a sort of explanation-scene unfolding:

About three months after the end of the series, Malik is now living with them and I picture him on the sidewalk downtown, eating a crepe (Asian style, where it's like a soft ice cream cone.) He starts getting some cat-calls and harassment from some obnoxious teenagers nearby because, come on, he's such a queen. Ryou/Bakhura catches up to him (it takes a few minutes to make a crepe-cone and Malik got his first) and it turns out that the hecklers are Hirutani's gang. Before Bakhura or Ryou even get so far as opening their mouth, Hirutani blanches and then beats pavement out of there.

**What happened to Mot and Sek?** – They joined up with Apep (remember that scene in the fifth season where Yami-Bakura kind of jumps down into the game-table and merges into Zork? That.) and were killed along with him. Sorry. They're gone.

**Deleted Scenes:**

So I mentioned, back in the AN for chapter 6, that everything had ended up going in a totally different direction than I'd originally intended. What prompted the change in large part seemed to be shifting the perspective, as originally the scene was written from Malik's POV and when I rewrote it from Bakhura/Ryou's it kind of took off on its own and I lost control of it.

The biggest change, -before Malik went and threw a wrench into the plot by blurting out that Atemu was killing Yuugi- was that originally I had Ryou being the one who ranted, and it was just angry and hurt ranting, then after the switch it ended up being Bakhura doing a lot of the ranting and it turned into more unhinged vitriol.

I've started the deleted-scene here from the moment the two story-paths diverged.

...

"I see," Yuugi looked back up with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "... Do you think maybe we could start over fresh?" he asked, fidgeting.

"No," Ryou replied in a hard voice and Yuugi winced.

"Wh-why the hell not?" Jonouchi cut in, obviously frustrated and offended by Ryou's flat out refusal.

Ryou looked up to Jonouchi, his expression still nearly blank. "It might have been possible up to and even during Battle City, but I can't erase what happened to us in the last three months because of what the Pharaoh did to me, and you can't either." He looked away then, not meeting any of their eyes when he added, "And trying to pretend that nothing happened is just going to make us angrier the longer it festers, and I _would_ hate you."

"But you're the one- ones- that tried to blow up the _world_ or something!" Jonouchi protested. "What the hell did we do that's worse than _that!_"

"Nothing." The word came out in a low growl and Malik couldn't identify whose voice it was for a minute, until it raised enough as it continued to pick out Ryou's tone, but with far more open hostility than Malik had heard in it before. "You did _nothing_. You sat back and did _nothing_ while, for _three months_, while I was destroying myself. You _watched_ me like a _soap opera_."

There was silence as not even Jonouchi seemed to be able to form a response to that. Ryou's eyes narrowed into a glare. "You're all so obsessed with some grade-school fantasy of being perfect, wholesome heroes, you couldn't possibly acknowledge any moral gray-area even existing, much less question the Pharaoh's ethics, because you'd already picked him out as the lead singer for your little rock band." Ryou's voice was shifting and blending with Bakhura's now, wavering back and forth between the two.

"Even without admitting that _maybe_ the Pharaoh wasn't an infallible pillar of _moral virtue_, you still could have just _been_ there. I didn't _have_ anyone else," Ryou said, his voice dropping down to something just above a whisper. "You took away the only person I _had_ in Domino and then you disappeared and left me completely alone." He paused for a moment, pursing his lips and then went on. "You know, I started playing a game with myself. I'd make lists of all the different ways I could think to kill myself, and then I'd rank them. What would be the most sensational? The fastest? The most painless? The most ironic?"

...

This was where I'd originally got lost and couldn't figure out how to finish the scene. However, while I was stuck, I still decided to move on and write the next scene and wait for inspiration to strike on the previous one. So, because of Malik's destruction of my carefully planned plotline, the following scene ended up not fitting into the story's new direction, but it still amused me and I thought I'd share it.

...

"What are we _doing _here?" Jonouchi growled, scuffing his toe against the floor. "We're supposed to look at mummies and pretend Bakura _didn't_ just have a _nuclear meltdown?_ He's complaining about us leaving him behind, and what the _hell_ are we doing _right now?_"

"I think he made it clear he doesn't want to talk about it now, and honestly, I couldn't just hang out with him after _that_." Honda shrugged, looking at a tarnished bronze hand-mirror.

"Fuck _hanging out!_ We should be _doing something!_" Jonouchi shoved his hands into his pockets and glared at a cracked perfume bottle.

"Like _what_, Jonouchi?" Anzu snapped.

"Like- I don't know! _Something!_"

"Jonouchi-kun, I don't think he wants to be around us right now," Yuugi said quietly, eyes fixed on his Japanese museum-guide.

"He needs to cool off, Jou." Honda patted Jonouchi's shoulder. "We can't know how much of that today was blowing off steam and how much is, y'know, permanent grudge kind of stuff."

"Besides, if he's leaving tomorrow, I'm sure he'll want to spend the day with Malik," Anzu sniffed, tilting her head to look through the glass shelf at the underside of an Isis statuette.

"Yeah, why _is_ he so buddy-buddy with Malik, _anyway?_" Jonouchi demanded sulkily. "He barely _knows_ that guy, right? _We_ go to _school_ with him!"

"Oh my god, could you be anymore _clueless_," Anzu moaned putting her face in her hands.

"What?"

"Jou, I'm going to go out on a limb and say I think he knows Malik pretty well..." Honda said in a voice that wasn't so much patronizing as it was weary. "Yeah, maybe they haven't spent that much _time_ together, but they were working together pretty close at Battle City," he reminded. "For example, Bakura got the _hell_ beat out of himself just to set us up to trust Malik. That's not exactly the kind of thing you do for a _stranger_."

"Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, I just kind of figured it was the _other_ Bakura that did that..." Jonouchi frowned at the floor tiles and shuffled along.

"But now we know that our Bakura was actually on their side," Atemu's voice reminded and Jonouchi jumped a little, not having noticed him change places with Yuugi.

"Let's not forget they were _all_ being yanked around by those Apep-bastards," Honda reminded him.

"I haven't _forgotten_," Atemu retorted with a hint of a sulk. "Anyway, Mai said that the other Bakura was intensely protective of our Bakura."

"Right, so they'd have to be pretty serious about Malik to do something that stupid." Anzu nodded, crossing her arms.

"Well he was serious about beating Yuug- I mean Atemu- right?" Jonouchi reasoned. "And he didn't even stick to Malik's plan anyway so they probably didn't plan it out all that well."

"Oh for the love of _God_, Jonouchi, they were practically sitting in each other's _laps_," Atemu snapped.

"... Huh?" Jonouchi frowned, confused.

"_Clueless!_" Anzu put her hands over her face again.

...

**Rejected Plot-Points:**

So most of you have probably seen that I rewrote the first fic for this series a couple months ago. The original _Making Choices and Taking Chances_ (I was never happy with that title) was written before I'd really developed my versions of the characters and before I'd decided on having two snakes, so the snake seen in the first fic and earlier edits of Bad Religion was originally supposed to be a diminished form of Apep. It was only when I started Interlude that I decided to split that character into Sek and Mot. So when rewriting the first fic, I took out the mocking-humor and laughing that I'd originally had the snake doing and changed it to Sek's severe personality. The other major change was because in the original fic, Bakhura had kind of had this "Waah, I'm a serial-killer with a heart of gold!" wank going on and it was a little too vague and... dumb. Edward lol wut. For those of you who haven't noticed the change or anything, the new version of that fic is called _Delusions_.

Bad Religion really never changed much from its original plan. The only thing that got changed in a later edit was again the snake's voice being changed to fit Sek's personality (it originally sounded like a combination of Sek and Mot.)

In Interlude, y'know that scene when Yuugi+ come back from their season 4 shenanigans and Yuugi's over at Ryou's place hanging out and cheering him up? Originally I had them making dorayaki (cookies), because, I don't know, I was like "What kind of low-key activity do you do to hang out when one of your friends is really tired and jet-lagged?" And, well, I bake, personally. After I posted that chapter originally, it suddenly occurred to me what an incredibly feminine scene that was. Cookie-baking and gossip to cheer up a friend? Holy estrogen, Batman! I ended up deciding that was just a bit too over-the-top and I didn't want to make Ryou that fem, so on a later edit, I changed the activity to something Mario Cart-ish.

I had lots of fun ideas for Hirutani. The one I liked best was having Hirutani, while rooting through Ryou's stuff because he's a greedy, controlling ass-hole, discover a small stash of diamonds Bakhura had hidden in Ryou's desk at some point. I ended up scrapping this idea just because it would take a long time to fuss around with the fall-out from that and it would detract from the central plot-line.

Mot ended up being a great entertainment to me. I originally created him on a whim, and based him off of the anime version of Yami-Malik, a grinning psychotic who's mouth is stretched wider than Jack Nickelson's Joker makeup. A clown of dark (and psychotically violent) humor. His personality continued to develop as I ended up playing him and Sek off each other and turning them into alike-and-opposite types, deciding to give Sek a very ascetic feel and Mot a very tantric one, and in the process turning Mot into as much a masochist as he is a sadist.

Somewhere between Interlude and Final Eclipse, I started plotting out in my head the events that transpired aboard the Battle City blimp, and in particular what the power-shift between Malik and Mot looked like from the inside. The following scene ended up as more of a writing-exercise exploring Mot's personal beliefs and motivations more than anything else, because I decided that I really didn't want to horribly traumatize Malik. Bakhura and Ryou are the center-point for this story and while Malik is an important character, he's still a supporting one; not only would kicking Malik's personal angst up by making this scene 'canon' have detracted from the central plot-line, but it also would have really made Malik unfit to support Bakhura and Ryou. I needed him to be functional, and this scene would have just put way too much on his plate. The following is a scene that never happened after Rishid got lightninged and Malik lost control to Mot on the Battle City blimp.

...

**Warning! Rated 'Mature' for sexual-violence!**

"_I would have been more gentle with you, Malik, but you have kept me waiting for far. too. long._" Mot whispered breathily next to Malik's ear as he punctuated with deep thrusts. Malik screamed at the unbelievable pain; it felt as though barbs were dragging through his flesh every time Mot pulled back and then slammed back into him with bone-breaking force.

Mot moaned wantonly and thrust faster. "_That is so __**beautiful**__,_" he breathed, his hand sliding down around Malik's groin and crushing him like a vice. "_I __**love**__ your voice, Malik, I love the __**sound**__ of it. There is nothing more beautiful than hearing you __**scream**__,_" he whimpered.

Malik sobbed, his entire body weak and trembling and Mot's arm wrapped tightly around his torso all that was keeping him from crumpling to the floor in a broken pile. "_Oh my darling,_" Mot panted against his neck, "_I've wanted you so __**badly**__!_" Mot's grip on Malik's genitals eased and turned to rough, merciless stroking, rubbing across the sensitive skin with far too much friction, making it raw and stinging within seconds.

"_I will abandon my pride for you my love,_" Mot murmured, scraping his teeth over Malik's neck. "_I will __**beg**__ my master to let me keep you. You will be spared when this world burns,_" he promised. "_We will have all eternity together, so that I can show you the heights of agony and ecstasy._"

Malik whimpered through clenched teeth, mucus waving disgustingly as his breath picked it up off the slimy drizzle down his lips. Mot seemed dissatisfied by the muffled sounds of misery and delivered a series of faster, deeper thrusts as he sank his teeth into Malik's neck and the burning of venom seeped into his veins. Malik's teeth unclenched and another tortured scream erupted from his throat.

"_Oh yes, __**yes**__, precious!_" Mot sighed as he disengaged his teeth from Malik's jugular. "_**Scream**__ for me, my __**love**__! Give me all your __**passion**__!_"

If he kept screaming, maybe Mot would be satisfied and it wouldn't get worse. How long could he scream for? How long would a metaphysical being's stamina last? As soon as he'd finished inhaling, Malik broke into another scream. Mot mewled behind him and licked the nape of his neck, continuing to thrust violently into Malik and rub at his penis as though to share some mutual satisfaction. If this weren't just inside of his mind, Malik thought vaguely through the haze of pain, he'd have been bleeding out.

He kept screaming, his throat quickly becoming ragged and raw, and after a while Mot's thrusts started to slow. "_You're not faking it for my ego, are you?_" he whispered, sounding genuinely hurt, and Malik felt a fresh wave of dread wash over him. "_Don't do that, my love, I need to know you're __**sharing**__ this with me,_" Mot whined, nuzzling behind Malik's ear. His body had stilled, the agonizing, shredding thrusts coming to a halt. "_Tell me how I can make it better for you, Malik. Tell me what you want, __**please**__._"

Malik sobbed, knowing this was a temporary reprieve, knowing that it wouldn't last, knowing that the pain would be back stronger than ever in a few seconds, but some desperate, impractical hope was suggesting that maybe Mot would stop if he just asked... "S-stop," Malik choked. "You-you're _hurting_ m-me..."

He felt Mot's lips, pressed against his neck, twist into a manic grin, and Malik's blood ran cold. "_Oh yes,_" Mot whispered. "_Isn't it beautiful, Malik? Overwhelming your senses, obliterating conscious thought, drowning you in an ocean of pure __**intensity**__._" His tongue rolled over the edge of Malik's ear and lips caught around the lobe and suckled on it for a moment. "_Your body is too fragile for this paramount suffering, I worked so hard to be able to share it with you, so you could experience this incredible beauty._"

"N-n-no," Malik cried, his voice cracking. "I h-_hate_ it!"

Mot whimpered and suddenly thrust into him several times, apparently overcome by lust. A scream caught in Malik's throat and he gagged and croaked pathetically as Mot forced himself to still again, lavishing attention on the side of Malik's neck, just below his ear. "_Yes, yes, __**yes**__,_" he whispered breathlessly. "_Hate is the strongest form of love, my darling!_" He bit again, his teeth sinking deep into Malik's flesh but staying there only a moment before retracting again to allow for speech. "_Give me all your hate, Malik, please, __**please**__! I will be yours forever, precious! I will give you all that I __**have**__!_"

Mot started thrusting again, hard and fast, ripping against his insides like razor blades, and Malik screamed louder than ever. Fingernails had become claws and were tearing down into the skin of Malik's chest. Fangs had found their way back to his neck, pouring fiery venom through his circulatory system. Then the pain reached a new decibel and it took Malik several moments to realize, and more based upon the sounds he was making than any recognition of the sensations, that Mot was climaxing.

Malik wasn't even sure whether he'd screamed. Mot was quiet and panting for a while, still inside of him. Malik sobbed brokenly, in pain and an overwhelming, amorphous shame. Mot moved suddenly, dissolving, slipping, curling around him with boneless fluidity, until he was in front of Malik, arms wrapped around him supportively, and his mouth pressed over Malik's. Malik turned his head and tried to pull away, shrinking from the despicable kiss, and Mot moved to suckle his Adam's apple.

Mot's hand moved and started stroking Malik again, not the rough, raw jerks of before but gentle, soft touches, coaxing an erection out of him. "N-no," Malik whimpered, trying to squirm away. Mot released his neck and dropped down; the heat of his mouth suddenly surrounded Malik's erection and drew gently back, sucking, teasing the way Ryou had before.

Malik sobbed. Somehow this was worse.

...

Er, yeah, so that's pretty dark... I can't remember what mood I was in then. This might have been a 'write it so I stop dreaming it' moment or maybe I was just mad with the power of the pen at the time.

So, anyway, that's all I can think of right now. The past month or two I've been working on an AU tendershipping fic, but I do poke around at the Serpentine prequels when I have any inspiration for them. No estimates on when any of them might get finished, but I haven't forgotten them. So anyway, I can't think of much more to say here; I promised you deleted scenes and here they are, but now I'm all written out for the day. 3 to all my reviewers, you're all lovely.

~ Fictatious


End file.
